


Vomit and Other Things

by Leaveitbrii



Series: Bodily Body Parts [1]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Each chapter will have additional tags cause spoilers, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaveitbrii/pseuds/Leaveitbrii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>September 29, 2004, the sky turned pink but more importantly it's the day Josh met Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mucous

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are. Another whirlwind adventure.
> 
> I guess this would be considered a prologue? Yes? ^^;

It happens like this, looking back, it happens like this, Josh watching as another boy stumbles through thin rows of desks, freckled and embarrassed as he makes his way back, their peers' gaze following. Josh doesn't even know his name, stomach twisting into knots as the boy glances at him, thick black frames sliding down his nose, book bag clutched tightly to his chest. 

Josh ducks his head. 

The boy slumps down beside him, a sigh wedged between his teeth that sounds heavy and painful, adjusting his glasses as he takes in his new surroundings, the dull blue bulletin board tucked on the wall, gold stars if you count to three, everyone's name written in sharpie with classroom chores written in corresponding slots. 

It happens like this, two sharp snaps of elastic, the thundering smack of a palm to cheek, a shuddering cry and Josh is no longer alone in the back of the classroom, five seats from the board, as Avery Micken is led to the front of the room, face red and splotchy, Georgia Pham's sobbing, frantic expression pressed into the skirt of Ms. Handsen. It's the last thing Josh sees before the teacher leads them away to the front office. 

Josh blinks, hears the muted wail of chatter against the pounding in his head and bites his bottom lip. Mr. Grave's annoyed expression pokes through the door, a finger pressed to his lips and that quiet noise turns to static, more giggles. 

Josh swallows thickly, tucking his pencil in between the pages of his sketchbook as he closes it, watching the way the boys in the front of the room go bright with stifled laughter as they stare back at Josh. He averts his gaze, focuses on the creases in his shirt and smooths them out. 

A throat clears beside him, Josh nervously peering over at the boy, who is staring, expression open and smiling, braces bright red, eyes blue, so so blue. 

"I'm Christ-Chris. That's me. I'm Chris." 

There's a hand stretched out to him, tiny, round fingers spread like an invitation and Josh hesitates. 

"My dad said you've gotta shake hands with new people. It's polite." Chris explains, fingers wiggling. "N-Not that you're not polite. Just.. Um.. I'm C-Chris.” He sighs. “I’m Chris.”

Josh narrows his eyes, a smile sliding along his face as Chris continues to stutter and blush, rambling off at the mouth. Josh grasps Chris' hand, snorting when Chris shuts up immediately, eyes blown wide and stupid behind his glasses. 

"I'm Josh." 

It takes a moment, a moment Josh spends in regret because maybe he shouldn't of shaken Chris' hand but it's all wiped away when a wide grin breaks across Chris' face, freckles dotting round cheeks and he squeezes. 

"Nice to meet you." Chris says hurriedly, shaking Josh's hand, excitement buzzing from his tiny body and Josh can't help but smile at the enthusiasm. 

"This went a lot better than last time." Chris tells him, releasing Josh's hand. "I'm not good at talking to people but my dad says practice makes perfect." 

That made sense, Chris' dad sounded smart like Josh's. 

"Your dad makes movies right?" Chris asks, leaning into Josh's space. "Scary kinds? Rrated kinds? Have you seen a boob?" 

"A what?" 

Chris glances around, ducking his head, hands cupped against his face as he whispers, "a boob." 

"'s that?" Josh frowns, unsure of what exactly is going on in this conversation. "That sounds like a food." 

"No, dude," Chris says quickly. "Mom's have them. Girls have them." 

Josh didn't know. 

"Are mom's girls?" 

Chris pauses, lips thinning, nose scrunched up in thought. He shrugs. 

"I don't-"

The lights cut off, startled gasps filling the air as sun spills into the classroom. Heavy footsteps echo from the hallway, Mr. Grave's worried head poking inside once again, forehead creased with lines. 

"Everyone stay in your seats okay?" 

They nod, a boy in front muttering about school getting out early. A siren sounds in the distance, this eerie haunting noise that reminds Josh of his dad's movies when he's allowed to watch them. It grows louder and louder and soon the entire room is trembling with the noise, a high pitched whir knocking around in Josh's head. 

Josh doesn't register the kids around him, panting shallowly as he scrambles to clasp his hand around his ears, teeth grinding together painfully. 

It won't stop, won't stop. 

Hands fold over his, Josh vaguely noticing how most of his classmates are tucked under their desks, some crying, some huddled close together and all he can see is the faded Captain America t-shirt Chris was wearing, feels it's prickly texture brush against his face as he's pulled out of his seat and into the corner of the room. 

Ms. Handsen is back, mouth moving mutely under the siren's call. Her nose is bleeding, eyes droopy and unfocused but she keeps directing the others to cover their ears. 

Chris is close to him, mouth downturned and worried, knees folded over Josh's, forehead pressed together and Josh reaches out to place his hands over Chris' ears. He watches a thin trail of blood trickle down Chris' nostrils, panic swelling in his chest. His siblings weren't in school today, dentist appointment, but were they okay? Were his parents? 

Josh tries to think but it hurts, shoulders trembling and the ground beneath them feels so loose, so unstable. He focuses on Chris' shirt, the comic panel etched across the front, how hot Chris' palms feel on his skin and he's scared, why was this happening, what was this. It's so, so loud. 

Chris wedges himself closer, eyes squeezed shut, thick tears sliding down his face and it feels like the world is dimming, that the world is darkening or maybe it actually is, Josh watching how the sunlight from outside turns bleaker and bleaker and empty and Ms. Handsen wipes the blood from her face, knees buckling and she rocks to the side, a hand touching her face. 

Chris’ hands tighten over Josh’s ears, blood smeared along his upper lip, and his eyes are open now, blue, impossibly blue. He’s saying something, mouth moving deafly under the incessant high frequency of the siren. Josh breathes, tries to focus on the tops of Chris’ knees, dusted red, tiny cuts lining skin and Josh catches Ms. Handsen moving out the corner of his eye. Josh turns, watches her sway, arms flailing slightly and Chris looks as well, clutching Josh tightly.

Her head nicks the edge of the desk, body sagging and she’s falling, falling, falling. Unmoving. Their classmates slumping to the ground one by one, some tangled in others, some with their eyes still open, unfocused, glazed over and glossy.

Josh bites back a scream, eyes burning with tears and Chris blocks Josh’s line of vision, face wide with terror but he forces a smile, shaky and pinched tight.

The siren fades. 

"It's okay, it's okay." Chris mutters, mouth pressed close to Josh's, darkness washing through the room, filtering along Josh's eyelids and he grasps Chris' face tightly, feeling every tremble, every stretch of skin. Josh can feel Chris' hands loosening, feels the beginning sag and he can't see what's happening, what's happened but his limbs refuse to cooperate, feeling heavy, filled with bundles of lead and Josh manages to grab Chris' hand before he can't remember anything else. 

"-calls are coming in, Gillian. Involving the statewide, correction, worldwide black outs that occurred earlier today." 

Fuzzy images flicker in front of Josh's eyes, white specks, blurred shades and his head aches, ribs protesting when he tries to breathe deeply. A hand rests over his wrists, muffled voices whispering and Josh tries to focus. 

He can make out the sounds of his parents arguing, white smooth paint stretching along the ceiling. 

"There's nothing normal about what happened, Melinda." Dad. 

"Shh, I know Keep your voice down." Mom. 

Josh wheezes, blinking drowsily through the dull ache in his chest. The hand holding his wrist squeezes, it feels like one of those Saturday's when he's slept too long and he can hear Beth and Ant's wild laughter as it tumbled through the halls. His parent’s voices fade, soft click of the hospital door shutting behind him. Josh stares down at the small hand folded over his wrist.

Soft strands of blonde hair fan against Josh's hospital bed, glasses cricked to the side, eyes closed and asleep and Josh can count the freckles dotting Chris' face. There was no blood this time, no strained smile and Josh wonders why Chris is still here, beside him, and why he reached for Josh before the world turned black. He doesn’t understand why but it makes his skin warm.

“The sky is pink, Gillian, actually pink.”

Josh glances away from Chris, focusing on the small TV situated on a mount in the corner of the room. A woman is standing on a crowded street, microphone situated in her hand as she gestures broadly to the crowd behind her. Josh blinks, forcing himself to sit up. 

The sky was pink. A nauseating shade of bubble gum pastel that stretched along the horizon. No familiar blue, no fluffy white clouds, pink. Josh watches the camera pan away from the sky, the woman’s voice gesturing to the sun as it eclipses dull yellow, stretches of orange spreading across and Josh gasps quietly.

The sky was pink.

Chris stirs beside him, shoulders lifting and his hand tightens around Josh's wrist as he straightens, knuckling the corner of his eyes, glasses shifting. His expression dulls, dazedly staring around the hospital room until he focuses on Josh.

Chris smiles, wide and dumb and Josh blushes.

"You're okay."

Because of you, Josh wants to say but instead he nods, face flushed hot, eyes darting from Chris' face to his hand. It takes a moment for Chris to register that he's holding Josh's wrist, cheeks dusted scarlet as he takes his hand away quickly, a nervous smile sliding across his face, tucking his hands into his lap.

Josh swallows, "What happened?"

He wants to know if their classmates were okay, Ms. Handsen, his siblings. Chris shrugs.

"I don't know," Chris answers, looking up at the TV screen. People are staring at the sky, the eclipse fading away and that's-

"Is that a ship?" Josh hears Chris ask. He doesn't know, watches that blackened shape drips from the sun like a raindrop, expanding and solidifying into some massive thing.

"Aliens." Josh whispers.

"There seems to be some sort of mass coming from the sun, Gillian. Are you guys seeing this?" The reporter cries, surprise evident in her face and Josh watches as the people surround her start panicking, a piercing roar echoing through the screen and the world shifts, trembling and low and Chris grabs Josh's hand again.

Josh shifts over, heart beating in his chest, and Chris clamors onto the hospital bed, pressing close to Josh, eyes squeezed shut and Josh clutches at Chris' hands, his shoulders. The hospital door swings open, Josh's mom rushing inside, face alive with horror and fear and she rushes towards them.

Josh can hear screaming, crying wails of frightened children and Josh reaches for her. Chris clings to Josh's side, face buried in his collarbone. Josh can feel wetness rubbing against his skin, the flowery scent of his mother's perfume, her thin arms closing around them. 

"It's okay, it's okay." She whispers, nose buried in the crown of Josh's head, her manicured fingers running through Chris' hair. 

Josh stares down at Chris, dimmer, murky like river water and squeezes Chris' hand. Chris presses his forehead to Josh's, fat tears rolling down soft cheeks and he's muttering softly, maybe praying Josh doesn't know but staring into Chris' tearful face, holding his hand with Melinda's arms wrapped tight around, Josh knows he never wants to see this expression again.

The shaking stops, the screaming quiets, dust particles still and slow and Josh's mom sighs into his hair, clutches him tightly. No news floats in from the television, labored frantic breathing comes from the hall. 

Everything's different.


	2. Spit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two years since the sky turned pink and a black alien ship appeared. Spoiler: Chris and Josh are still friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention the last chapter was the prologue?  
> ANYWAY.
> 
> Warnings: Gross cute babies, pill taking

“In other news, renowned scientists from all over the globe are gathering-“ Click.

“Recent cult activity have civilians afraid. The recent development of local group-“ Click.

“This evening, President Bush is meeting with Prime Minister Abe in rega-“ Click.

“Ugh. Josh, pick a channel.” Chris groans from where he’s spread out on Josh’s bed, shirt pulled up to reveal a peach, pudgy tummy. He rolls onto his side, a dying wheeze escaping his lips as Josh forces himself off the ground, hobbling over to the window of his room. He throws it open, shutters clacking noisily but the air feels nice against his skin, blazing heat rushing outside.

Chris clamors up to Josh, sweaty, slapping into Josh’s arm, who groans, moving to accommodate the new presence pressed up beside him. Chubby fingers come to rest on Josh’s shoulders, a relieved sigh blown into Josh’s ear. Josh swallows hard, nudging Chris when the other wiggles to get out the window more.

“You guys are rich. Your air conditioner shouldn’t be broken.”

“Shut up, Chris.” Josh whines, nudging Chris again when the other shifts closer to him.

“It’s so hot I’m going to die.”

“Then why are you up against me?!” Josh manages, a bead of sweat sliding down his face.

“You feel good, preach.” Chris replies easily. 

Josh reddens. 

Chris blinks.

“No homo.” Chris grins, sliding a hand under Josh’s shirt, unbothered by the slick rubbery texture and presses impossibly close, nose buried in the side of Josh’s chin, eyes blue like how the sky used to be. Josh huffs irritably but doesn’t move away, exhaling softly as he lays his chin on Chris’ head. 

From his house, you could see the ship, it’s smooth metallic shape, blacker than anything Josh had seen, blinking white lights that only showed up past dark, melded in with street lamps. Josh doesn’t know what they want, what the adults are doing about it. 

Josh squints, the long stretch of the alien ship blocking part of the sun. He's listened to bits and pieces of radio broadcast, his mother's early talk show she watches while making breakfast and it seemed like no one had answers as to why the sky was pink or what that had to do with the invaders.

That was a weird word, when Josh thought about it. Invaders were conquerors, enemies depending on what side you were on but they hadn't done anything, just sat, lurked about the atmosphere and late at night, if Josh listened close, he could hear a mechanical hum. 

“Are you sad we aren’t going to same middle school anymore?” Josh asks, to fill the silence, leans more into Chris’ hot embrace because even though it’s nearly ninety in his room, Josh doesn’t mind if it means Chris would be here. 

Chris nods, dragging his nose along Josh’s collarbone, a wet snort of snot filling the room. Josh smacks his shoulder, earning a high giggle.

“’m serious, Cochise.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll miss you.” Chris tells him. “Bet you won’t miss me.”

“I will. Not like I can’t walk to your house.”

Chris stiffens, pulling his head back and he shrugs, arms coming to cross against his chest, eyes flickering between Josh’s face and a bird weaving through electric poles. Josh waits, tapping the window ledge, discomfort brimming under his skin and maybe he shouldn’t have brought up Chris’ house.

“I could walk to your house.” Chris tells him.

“You could do that, Cochise.” Josh agrees. He never understood why Chris was so hesitant for Josh to meet his family. Josh met Chris' mom briefly, thinning blonde hair, wild blue eyes like Chris'. Josh didn't know if he liked her but he liked the way she held Chris close after she stumbled into Josh's hospital room.

Chris glances at him. “Will…. Will you miss me?”

Josh blinks, then grins, hooking his arm around Chris’ neck, knuckles rapping across the top of his best friend’s head as the other squirms, a laugh shared between them.

"Okay, okay, stop." Chris cries, wedging his arms between them, flustered, and he wiggles away from Josh's hold, eyes downcast, smile slowly slipping off his face. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Yes." Josh answers immediately.

Chris sends him a withering smile. He glances away, licking his lips slowly, fidgeting with the ends of his shirt. Josh places a hand on his shoulder, grips it softly, and Chris looks at him.

"I found something."

"Found what?"

"I-I don't know what’s on it but I found a tape."

Josh frowns. "Okay?"

"I don't have a VHS player." Chris tells him, moving away from Josh. He staggers over to where his book bag sits in the corner of Josh's room, the drag of a zipper filling the air. Josh waits, padding around to his TV. He glances back at Chris, hears the shuffle of books and plastic scraping together and Josh fumbles with his remote, clicking until a white screen appears.

Chris returns, an old VHS tape in his hands, scratchy pen scribbled along white. He pushes it into Josh's hands, visibly bothered but urges Josh to put it into the player. It wasn't labeled, marker shaded along the edges, worried away with unknown touches.

"Geeze, Cochise, I got this."

"Okay," Chris says curtly.

Josh wonders why this is so important to Chris, what this used black tape contains but he doesn't ask, pushes it inside. Josh steps back, slumps down on the edge of his bed, Chris hurrying to join him, hands linked together in his lap.

There's a countdown, a white circle flickering onto the screen, large black numbers written in the center. It reminds Josh of old films he used to watch with his dad. The numbers fall backwards to 1, image fading into black before cutting to a white fuzz.

"It's a mockumentary, guys, just chill."

Josh doesn't recognize the voice, startled by its crisp clarity despite the lacking audio from before. No picture flashes across the screen, grainy beads of white flickering weakly. The video is scratchy, not clear like Josh's dad home movies or the movies Josh goes to see with his siblings. He can make out vague images of people, distorted, misshapen and vague but he can see varying smiles, hears someone calling out a name that he can’t make out.

Josh squints, more static darts across the screen, looping over and over. Chris shifts uncomfortably beside him, his hand coming to rest over Josh's. Josh glances at him, sees the fine lines of tension in Chris’ shoulder and Josh twists his hand awkwardly, palm to palm until their fingers intertwine. Chris doesn’t look back, fixated on the screen and he squeezes Josh’s hand tightly.

Josh turns back.

"Hey, remember me?" A blurred smile. "'course you do, otherwise why would this message be addressed to you?"

The voice returns, loud and clear, static fizzling underneath like a buzz. White lines slide down the TV, then back up, blurred blinks of tired eyes, the rest blurred and twisted streaks of noise. It blackens. All static and white. Josh reaches out to tap his television, the static shifts but remains. He sits back on his bed, frowning, glancing at Chris for any indication of what's supposed to be happening but Chris doesn't look at him, a dark sadness fluttering over his features.

Laughter.

"Well, sucks, but if you're watching this I'm-" Distortion. "Can't say any of you didn't see this coming." A laugh. "I'm sorry, I've always been kind of bad with jokes. Chr-” Loud static. “Chins up. Don't cry. This was probably for the best."

The television blanks, familiar reflections peering back. Josh stares, watches fine static white lines dribble back and forth before it fades and disappears. He turns to Chris, questions on the tip of his tongue, their hands still connected, the persistent harshness of Chris’ hold growing tighter and tighter. Josh’s blood thins, unease sweeping down his spine and Chris wipes his face furiously, cheeks splotchy and red and he hiccups loudly, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

"Chris?" 

Chris sniffles wetly, shoulders trembling and he gasps softly, glasses pushed up his forehead as he buries his face in his hands. Josh shifts awkwardly beside him, unsure what to do, so he wraps an arm around Chris' shoulders, feels the hard tremble that works through the other boy's body. 

They sit there for a moment, Chris quietly crying into his hands, Josh staring down into oily strands of blond, silence passing between them. The air tastes sour, bitter like the pills Josh takes, Chris breathing nosily into his hands with every small, horrible choke. Josh holds him tighter.

“Come in, Joshy.” Sam’s voice sings, startling them both, her low laughter following. “Over.”

His walkie-talkie makes a noise from behind them as Sam switches off, shhing quietly as she waits. Chris straightens, exhaling harshly through his nose, blinking rapidly. He stares ahead, thumbs tracing over one another, fingers gripped tightly together.

“I’m sorry.” Chris says softly. 

“It’s okay.”

Chris looks at him, eyes red and soft. He sniffs, silently, and slips off of Josh's bed. 

“Joooooosh! I know you’re there.” Sam tries again. “Over.

"Chris.." Josh coughs. "Are you okay?"

Chris responds with a tiny grunt, hobbling over to his book bag. He doesn't look at Josh, shifts through his bag until he tugs out a wrinkled, oversized Aloha shirt. It's ugly, makes Josh turn up his nose but Chris pulls it on slowly, patting down massive creases in the fabric.

"My dad left."

Josh stills, hand fisted in his bed sheets. He watches Chris work the buttons closed, blonde eyelashes dark and wet. Chris scratches the back of his head, turning to Josh with a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"He left and I found that tape," Chris points to it. "I found it under my bed. I thought it was from him. It's not. That’s not his voice."

Josh doesn’t say anything, staring at Chris’ back as the other kneels down to tuck clothes back inside the bag that have managed to spill out. Josh glances at his nightstand, walkie-talkie antenna stretched out wide, a blinking red light in the corner. Chris turns back to him, eyes rimmed red but he manages a smile.

“My mom says it’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.”

Josh snorts at that. “Sam’s no lady. She beat up a boy yesterday.”

Chris’s mouth click open. “Why?”

“Hannah.” Josh says simply.

Chris purses his lips and nods slowly, shoving his hands into his shorts. He rounds Josh’s bed, snatching the walkie-talkie from its place. He brings it to his lips.

“This is Commander Scott. Over.” Chris answers deeply, Josh stifling a laugh behind his hand when Chris puffs out his chest, voice far deeper than Josh has ever heard it.

“Who?” Sam answers immediately. “Oh! Oh is this Chris? Over.”

“Negative, cadet. This is Commander Scott. Over.”

“Riiiiight.” Sam drawls. “This is Colonel Samantha Finnegan. Over.”

Chris glances at Josh, who shrugs, grinning widely. He looks down at the walkie-talkie. “How can I be of assistance, Colonel?”

“Say over.” Josh whispers.

“Over.” Chris says hurriedly.

Sam giggles into the receiver. “Are you guys’ home? The frequency is pretty strong. Over.”

“Copy.” Chris answers. “Over.”

“Nice. There’s a meteor shower.” Sam pauses. “Wanna see? Over.”

“Yes!” Chris says excitedly. “I mean, uhm, yeah. Over.” Chris grins widely, clutching the walkie-talkie in his hands, eyes boring into Josh's face when their gazes meet. His excitement dimmers, fades, slight and meek and Josh's lung seize.

"I-If.. Do-"

"Yes."

Chris beams and Josh fingers twist in his blanket, fighting back the growing warmth that he feels. He watches Chris' cheeks stain pink, watches the hesitant bite of lip and Josh looks away, feeling embarrassed and hot. It’s probably because his air conditioner is broken.

“I-I’ll go meet Sam downstairs.”

Josh manages a nod, Hannah’s voice shouting ‘4 minutes’ from the stairs as Chris pries Josh’s bedroom door open. Josh glances over his shoulder, just in time to see Chris nearly trip over his own feet in his haste. Josh watches him go, hears the raucous laughter that floats up from the hallway, lets it warm the chill lining his spine. The upstairs is quiet, empty. Josh’s room the last on the hallway, up a polished set of thin stairs. It used to be an attic, when Josh was an only child, when his mother only expected one more kid. 

Nine months later, Josh had two siblings and his dad gave him a new place to call his own, hours spent painting stars into the ceiling, his dad’s joyous laughter spreading warmth through Josh’s entire body. They spent the night in a pillow fort and for the first time, his mom joined them and said she was happy. Josh didn’t see his dad as often, his mom busy with the twins, but he had movies to fill his emptiness, bottles of pills he couldn’t pronounce the name to and Chris.

Josh slips down from his bed, fumbles through his bedroom, kicking at discarded clothes and dinosaur toys. It’s still hot inside the room but Josh grabs his dad’s old college pullover from the closet and pulls it on, smelling faded mothballs and old cologne. He can see the beginnings of the shower through his window, pink sky glossing film like cotton candy and pries open the first drawer to his nightstand, grasping the color coded pill case hidden inside. 

SATURDAY (BLUE) 

The two white pills he takes every morning were gone, left over the large red and brown one that tasted like ash and salt but Josh has gotten good at swallowing them down without water, stares absently into nothing as his throat works around them, listening, empty. A knock comes to his door, Chris’ freckled face popping into view, expression hesitant but when Josh doesn’t say anything, shrugs his shoulders and smiles, Chris visibly relaxes.

“We got two minutes.”

Josh turns away. “Yeah. Where’s Sam?”

“Downstairs.” Chris answers meekly. “I changed my mind. Are… Are you okay?”

Josh nods, snapping his pill case closed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Oh..okay.” Chris says, glancing at the pill case in Josh’s hand. He’s fiddling with his fingers, picking dirt out from his nails, cheeks darkening and Josh wonders if Chris will ever ask why he takes medication. Maybe he didn’t know how to deal with the conversation. Josh didn’t either, never talked about what he wanted with anyone besides Dr. Davis. It’s been two years, two years since the sky turned pink and Josh doesn’t miss the blue at all if he can see it in Chris’ eyes. Josh doesn’t know if Chris expected much from their friendship and he never asked why Josh had to go to the nurse after lunch during school.

“1 minute, Cochise.” Josh smiles. He doesn’t mean to be this way but he likes Chris, enjoys having a friend who wanted to stay with him after aliens came.

Chris nods, shifting his feet, and looks up at Josh, a small smile in place. He watches Josh lift from his spot on his bed, watches him set the pill case back on the nightstand and he holds out his hand like he can hear the rattling in Josh’s ribs, like he can feel Josh’s mind begin to wander. Josh takes it, intertwines their fingers, and his heart stutters when Chris squeezes, that smile wavering and he presses their foreheads together. 

“I’m glad I get to see them with you.” Chris tells him. “Is that weird?”

“No.” Josh says and he means it. “We can name three of them.”

Chris blinks. “Oh my god, that’d be amazing.”

“You’re a dork.” Josh laughs.

Chris chuckles, tugging Josh’s hand insistently. “Let’s go.”

“Okay, okaaaay.” Josh grins, allowing Chris to lead him down the stairs, hand in hand. 

The others didn’t reach the lake at the end of Josh’s backyard, staring up at the sky, mouths hanging open and Chris stops short of the wooden porch, eyes blown wide. Lit up yellow black rocks soar through air, too far to touch but they make whistling noises, pinkish air cracking up in darker shades of burgundy and red. It’s beautiful, like moving pictures of cotton candy and cookie pieces, the first shot of a train leaving the station. It makes his blood pump inside his veins, singing softly and he can’t stop staring, watching stars collide on a pink sky. Comets running through misplaced color.

The black ship seems unbothered, comets swirling around it like the earth in orbit, puppets on a string and Josh blinks, watching a thin glimmer of white trace over metal before it disappears. 

“This is so cool.” Sam says softly, her hand in Beth’s.

Josh lets go of Chris’ hand, ducks his head and steps back, biting his bottom lip when Chris wanders away from him, towards Sam. Josh watches Chris’ hesitation, watches the way his fingers glide along Sam’s wrist, watches Sam tense up, head turning slightly, and she takes Chris’ hand. 

“Josh.” Josh forces himself to turn away, to look away from Sam and Chris’ linked hands to Hannah, hair framed around her face, she looks like their mother. She worries her bottom lip, Josh stiffening as he waits, unsure what this conversation is, what it will be because Han didn’t talk to Josh about anything heavy, as heavy as it could be for a 10 year old. 

“Yeah?”

“Um,” Hannah laughs nervously. Josh doesn’t like it, glances back at the other’s watching the meteor shower and turns back to Hannah, placing a hesitant hand on his sister’s shoulder. Hannah releases a sigh, blinking rapidly, a smile threatening to break out on her face.

“That one is huge!” Beth cries.

Hannah looks first, then Josh, his hand still braced on Han’s shoulders. He gasps softly, a large meteor soaring through the pink sky, smoke like diamonds surrounding it like dusted sparkles. Chris isn’t holding Sam’s hand anymore, standing closer to the grass with Beth, both of their arms outstretched to the air and Sam turns back to Josh and Hannah, wide grin fading. She stares at Josh, eyes flickering between the two of them and Hannah grasps the front of Josh’s pullover.

“Will you come with me to the gardens tomorrow?” Hannah hurries to say. “U-Um, There are some cool, new plants-

“Yes.” Josh answers quickly. Hannah blinks. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Oh.” Hannah smiles, relieved. “Oh okay. Thank you.”

Josh nods, fighting back a smile at the way his sister’s face, how nice and sweet it is. He feels warm, warm at the idea that she asked. Hannah smiles, reaching to take Josh’s hand. She squeezes. Josh squeezes back. Sam’s shoulders slouch deeply, turning back to the sky. Chris is counting the meteors, without Josh, voice loud and pleasant and Hannah’s grip grows tight in Josh’s.

Chris turns back, smile as wide as the sky, everlasting pools of blue, hand outstretched and Josh can barely hear what he’s saying over how warm he suddenly feels. Hannah nudges him forward so Josh goes, clasping Chris’ wrists, eyes focused on the way Chris points, amazed, transfixed and oh. Josh swallows, clutching the front of his dad’s pullover, butterflies twisting in his stomach and he clutches Chris’ hand tightly. Chris’ gaze meets his, pleased, happy, like he wouldn’t be anywhere else but here.

Beth giggles from beside them, hands clasped over her mouth, dark hair whipping through the air. Sam glances at Josh and he doesn’t know what this is, thinks there’s something murky in what he wants and it seems to be connected with Chris, and the way Sam smiles, knowing, he wonders if she’s looking for the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next episode of Vomit and Other Things:
> 
> Insert Jess, who Josh swears up and down is a witch, and a potted cactus named Mr. Pudge courtesy of our resident freckled sunshine.


	3. Cerumen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attack the block (which is also a pretty good movie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: gross babies

"This is weird. Is this witchy magic?" Sam asks, watching Jess situate a potted cactus in the center of a crudely made circle. "It's not that impressive."

"It's not supposed to be," Jess responds. "It will be in a few weeks."

Sam crouches down beside her, knees pressed to her chest, the intricate braid she wore coming loose and stringy. There's a soft dip in her brow, hazel eyes flickering up to Josh. He shrugs. Sam looks back to Jess.

"Josh says you're a witch."

Jess snorts, "Did Josh tell you he's a demon?"

Josh coughs loudly, glaring at the two girls weakly, arms folded across his chest. Sam smirks.

"Makes sense." She replies, "So...are you?"

Jess hums.

"A witch?"

Jess grins at her. “Sure am! I’m going to sacrifice you both to Habba Do. He’s the God of this place.”

Sam’s eyes grow big, Josh laughing at her expression because it’s a character from a comic book Josh let Jess borrow called Wind Watchers and the Fiery Baby. 

Kids at school said this place was haunted, climb to the top and you'll find God there, three wishes later he'll come for payment. Chris found the notion worrisome, his dumb laughter pressed into Josh's ear, masking his paranoia, as Jess smirked from across from them. There were no ghosts here, just emptiness and dust and a broken mirror.

"I found some rocks!" Chris' voice startles Josh, more so than the heavy slam of the metal door closing behind him, smooth, circular rocks in his chubby hands. He hurries over to them, sandals slapping against dirtied concrete, using his wrists to push up the large, thick frames perched on his nose.

Josh holds out a hand to help, Chris sending him a freckled smile, pushing some rocks into Josh's palm. Josh missed the old rocks, the originals, the jagged ones that hurt, sharp as though they were cut from stone. They didn't exist anymore, everything changed and the rocks evened out, smoothing hardened edges into rounded pieces.

"Jess says cacti grow flower." Chris whispers, clasping a hand over Josh's, rocks safely tucked away.

Josh glances up at him, "Really?"

"I haven't seen one." Chris admits softly. "My dad says they're really, really cool."

Josh wonders if Chris' dad had come back yet. He doesn't asks, instead he places a hand on Chris' shoulder and squeezes, earning a small smile.

"How many did you get?" Sam asks, bouncing up to them. They show her Chris' find, different shades of silver and grey and Sam nods as if it's a decent batch.

"I didn't know how many." Chris tells her.

"It’s fine." Jess says, not looking up at them, tiny fingers patting dirt around the cactus. "Bring 'em."

Sam and Chris exchange a look, Josh shouldering Chris with an incessant "go" and the three clamor over to Jess, rocks tumbling to the hard ground. Jess wrinkles her nose but says nothing, circling the potted cactus with rocks. It makes a weird pattern, something that looks like crop circles to Josh. 

The cactus was supposed to symbolize their friendship, water it and it will grow strong, let it sit and rest and don’t force too much onto it, two weeks, it will grow. Well that’s what Chris’ mom’s boyfriend, Ian, said.

Josh wonders if people change if they don’t talk as much, if they don’t see each other as often but Chris made him promise that they’d still be best friends, bros, Chris was his best man. Josh gave Chris a walkie talkie, the clam shell one, so they could talk on the way to school and after.

Chris kneels down beside Jess, sniffing noisily as he watches. Sam grasps Josh's hand, pinky first, ring finger next and they stand side by side as Jess directs Chris on how to "close the circle" and Josh doesn't even have to suggest that Jess is a witch, has only said it in the form of jokes and laughter but he knows Sam and Chris know Jess isn’t normal.

"Are Beth and Han coming?" Jess glances up at Josh. He shrugs, unsure if his siblings were going to show up. Josh knew Hannah kept a strict schedule when it came to watering the backyard garden and Beth, being ever loyal, was always quick to make sure Hannah was able to keep to it.

"We can bring them here tomorrow." Chris suggests, wiggling as he tries to stand. Sam reaches out to steady him, Jess watching warily as Chris grins, cheeks dusting red.

"Yeah." Sam beams. "We could do that. After school tomorrow."

Jess nods, rising to her feet. She wipes dirt and flecks of rubble from her dress, the blue still stained grey but she doesn't seem to mind, linking her arms with Sam’s, smile wide and pretty and Sam blushes, releasing Josh's hand as Jess nuzzles into the side of her face.

Chris hobbles over to Josh, hands cupped around his mouth, eyes narrowed, "Is it gay if they're both girls?"

Josh didn't know, shrugs, and Chris takes his hand with a lopsided smile, "no homo" whispered along his tongue. Josh squeezes his hand, noticing the hard stare Jess sends their way, eyes distant and she turns away, guiding Sam towards the old metal entrance.

"Are you going to stay up tonight?" Chris asks, releasing Josh's hand once Sam notices, eyebrows raised, one squeeze then two and Josh tucks his hands into the front of his dad's pullover.

"Josh never sleeps." Jess comments, slightly ahead of them, Sam's arm still linked in hers.

Chris turns to Josh, "You sleep sometimes. I’ve seen it."

Josh lifts an eyebrow at him. "You’ve watched me sleep?"

"I-It’s…." Chris stammers. "It’s not like that."

Josh stares at him for a moment, biting back a smile as he pushes past Chris, catching the bright blush that crosses his best friend's face when Josh spits out a laugh. Chris hurries after him, righting his glasses, hands hanging awkwardly at his sides.

Josh climbs down behind Chris to the downstairs area, Jess leading the way, her hands fisted at her side, Sam beside her. He studies the back of Chris' head, fine blonde strands glimmering under beams of soft sunlight that pass through broken windows. The stairs creak under their weight, old and rusty, dust and spider webs collecting along the corners.

"What if it really was haunted?" Chris whispers, hand cupped over his mouth as he leans into Josh, chubby fingers brushing against Josh's palm. It makes his thought stutter, fizzle and burn.

"I can't bring a ghost home." Chris says. “My mom would kill me. She’s already having a hard time with the aliens.”

"You won’t. Cochise." Josh replies easily. "We're big kids, now. Ghost don’t mess with us."

Big kids meant 11, they shouldn't be afraid, and Josh is certain, absolutely certain that when Jess laughed at the notion of ghosts living at the top of this dance studio he knew they had nothing to worry about. Josh knows Jess isn't from here, from Holidays and that she minds people, minds adults and "like minded idiots" but she doesn't mind him, or Sam, or Chris, chatters them up like she's known them for years.

He's thought of asking, who she is, where she's from and maybe she can sense the question because each time she'll turn to him, a warning in her face, and no one’s ever seen where Jess lives but Josh guess it’s nowhere good. Josh wasn't stupid, gets As in classes he likes, Cs in ones he doesn't when his mind stops whirring but he knows a hesitant conversation topic when he sees it, spent most of his childhood watching his parents sneak glances at him in the back seat of the car, Han and Beth snuggled into his sides.

Josh takes Chris' hand, presses his thumb into the other boy's pulse, listens to the way it quips and stutters and Jess glances back at him, that sparkle in her eyes, that look. Chris holds his hand, squeezing softly, skin sweaty and warm against his.

Sam doesn't say anything in regards to their hands, squinting through dusty darkness for the main entrance, two double doors below the broken 'exit' sign. Jess kisses her cheek and finds it for her, a sly smile on her face when she pushes the doors open. They open easily, like freshly polished wood, the pink stretch of sky waiting for them.

Josh didn't care for pink and it could be because he was used to blue for so long, since he was born but it wasn't an unpleasant change, Mike wanted a black sky. That was a stupid suggestion.

"Wonder why they haven't torn it down yet." Sam says aloud, glancing back at the dance studio.

Jess taps her shoulder, "They will. In two weeks."

Chris gasps, "But Mr. Pudge!" Josh wheezes.

"You named the cactus?" Jess glances back at him, amused.

Chris reddens, "My mom said that’s how plants know they're loved."

Jess' steps pause on the sidewalk, grey ballet flats muddy and she turns to them, eyes bright and warm and she smiles.

"We'll get him out before then." Jess tells him.

Chris beams, expression pleasant, peaceful, eyes dazed and Josh wonders if Jess put a spell on him but sees that dopey smile Chris wears sometimes and knows Chris is just another dumb kid with a crush on a girl. Jess probably knows, smarter than most of them, in tune with the way other boys looked at her but Josh is starting to think the reason Jess ignores Chris’ dorky, nervous nature is because of him.

Somehow Chris ends up beside Sam, Jess flanking back, her eyes lit up with warm grey. Josh frowns at her, earning an eye roll, Jess tapping her chin with her index finger, lips puckered into a pout and she leers at Josh. He shifts uncomfortably as she moves to walk beside him, focusing on the sudden silence that seems to follow Jess around.

Jess leans into him, eyes narrowing, studying and Josh can see the discolored specs of yellow in her eyes, the darker shades of grey and he holds his breath.

"Hey," Jess says simply, shifting away. "I had a weird dream."

"What kind of dream?" Josh asks.

Jess shrugs, patting at her stomach. "It was weird."

Josh nods.

"I met a girl. She was older than me or maybe we were the same age. I don't know but I met a girl," Jess explains, mouth opening and closing. "She was beautiful. She said she forgave me. I don't know for what. I woke up."

"That is weird." Josh agrees.

Jess nods. "I've had the same dream since the aliens arrived. Do you believe in dreams? Do you think they're real?"

Josh shrugs. He didn't know. "Chris says they are."

"Chris is a baby." Jess smiles. "I like him. He's nice. He gave me this dress."

"He is nice." Josh agrees.

"When do I get one?"

"What?"

"A walkie talkie. Sam has one. So does Chris. I want one." Jess says, "Please."

"I'll ask my dad." Josh tells her.

Jess smiles widely, cheeks rounding and her lashes flutter when she blinks. She turns away from him, staring ahead, strands of hair sliding along the wind.

Chris says something to Sam, who tosses her head back with a laugh, braid loosening into sloppy waves and Josh looks between them, suddenly feeling misplaced.

Jess nudges him, "Why's your face like that?"

"Like what?" Josh asks, feeling his face grow hot. Jess gestures to his cheeks, pokes at them with tiny fingers.

"Like you have a secret."

Josh sputters, quickly hurrying forward, knees knocking together and Jess stares after him curiously, too big grey eyes seeping into his essence. She blinks, once then twice before a wide grin stretches across her face.

"Oh Joshy."

"Jeeeeess." Josh whines pathetically, hurrying up to Sam and Chris, Jess' high giggles trailing after him and it feels as if the sun bled from the sky and dripped its orange goo all over Josh's shoulders.

"Joshy!" Jess calls from behind him. Josh doesn't look back, biting down on his bottom lip.

"It's okay to have a crush!"

"That's not what this is, Jessica!" Josh calls over his shoulder.

"Suuuure seems like it." Jess sings, more shrill giggling following. She runs after him, dress flapping in the wind, her face blossoming red like a rose and Josh can’t help the trickle of annoyance that filters through him. He notices Chris slowing to a stop, looking over his shoulder at Josh. 

Jess slams into Josh’s back, clawing at his shoulders as she climbs onto his back, laughter pressed into his ear and Josh nearly topples over, gravel shifting irritably beneath him as he steadies himself. Sam looks amused.

“Joshy has a crush.”

Josh reddens.

Sam gasps.

Chris frowns, “On who?”

Jess places a finger to her lips. “Secret.”

Chris glances at Josh, expression a bit sad, a bit confused until it melts away in a wet look of indifference. Chris wipes his nose with the back of his hand, awkwardly readjusts his glasses, blue eyes darting between Josh’s face and the ground.

“That's cool. People have crushes.” Chris says.

"I guess. Only cowards have crushes and not tell the person." Jess tells him and Sam grins.

“Who is it, Josh?" Sam asks.

Jess agrees enthusiastically, knees digging into Josh’s side as she wiggles around on his back. Josh helps her down, huffing loudly when Jess almost trips over her own feet in her attempt to grab Sam’s arm. Chris doesn’t look at Josh, stares into the folds of the ground as if it holds answers. Josh hobbles over to him, placing a hesitant hand on Chris’ forearm.

Chris looks at him, “Do you have a crush on Jess?”

Josh blinks, shakes his head and Chris releases a sigh, a smile appearing shortly after.

"Do you?" Josh asks but he doesn't want to know.

Chris blushes, "Um."

“I could've told you that." Jess calls, tugging on Sam’s arm. "I wouldn't want to date a demon. You're both idiots."

Josh flushes, "Shut up, Jessica."

"Touchy." Jess smirks. 

"Let's just forget about it." Chris interrupts, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I gotta get home."

Sam turns to the sky, setting streaks of burgundy glistening in the distance. She nods at Josh. "I'll take Jess home. Keep the channel open."

"Aye aye captain." Josh mock salutes.

Sam rolls her eyes, tilts her head at him and punches Chris' arm before dragging Jess down the sidewalk. They watch the girls go, an unsettling silence drifting between them. Chris turns to him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Is it Sam?"

Josh swallows. "No."

"Oh..." Chris stares down at his sandals, toes wiggling. "Who is it?"

"Jess was just talking." Josh explains.

Chris peers up at him through blonde lashes, a faint color in his face, freckles spotty and dark and he reaches for Josh's hand. 

Josh takes it.

"You can see the Big Dipper tonight." Chris tells him.

"Did you want to see it?" Josh asks.

Chris nods, "My mom wants me in before dark though." 

"We'll just tell her that you're staying with me."

Chris seems to consider it, a quick thought and he's nodding again, insistently pulling at Josh's hand. He says the best place to see the stars is the hill near the highway so that's where they go, Chris talking softly about different constellations he used to study with his dad.

"Did you keep the tape?"

Josh nods, "I watched it a few more times."

"Why?"

Josh shrugs, "It changes each time. I can almost see the guy talking. Sometimes the words change but he's always saying goodbye."

"That's weird."

Josh agrees. 

Chris pauses once they reach the top of the hill, which wasn't really a hill at all, more like an elevated piece of land that kind of stuck. He plops down on bare earth, dragging Josh down with him and their shoulders knock together uncomfortably, hands still folded around one another.

"My crush isn't Jess." Chris tells him, staring up at the growing fade of pink to deep burgundy. Josh swallows thickly.

"Yeah?"

Chris looks at him, "Yeah."

Josh doesn't say anything, heart beating hard in his ribs and it feels like there's a brick crumbling down his windpipe or maybe it's just the swipe of familiar emptiness, Josh doesn't know but Chris rests his head against Josh's shoulder and it feels like hot chocolate during winter.

They sit there for a while, until Josh's legs turn fuzzy with numbness and he doesn't know much about the stars or constellations but when sees large dark circles caressing the atmosphere, he thinks they might not see the Big Dipper after all. 

A mechanical whirr fills the air, lights flickering along the edges of the alien ship and the ground trembles underneath them. Loud cranking noise settles against the night sky, the familiar resounding alarm of the emergency system echoing beside it.

Josh tenses up, skin prickling with goosebumps and he staggers to his feet, Chris' tearful eyes meeting his. 

"It's okay." Josh says quickly. "Let's go to my house."

Chris nods, shakily, sniffing softly and he follows Josh down the hill. There's a panic in his face, one that matches Josh's insides and Josh can see blackened masses dripping down from the alien ship, thin and droopy and his chest squeezes. Josh glances back at Chris, who stares back, openly afraid and the alarm continues in the background, all fuzz and static. 

Josh hurries along the sidewalk, Chris in tow, lights flickering inside passing houses, the high noise of families waking up, families becoming afraid. Josh notices a tall shadow shifting against one of the houses, tiny slits of white lining a round head and a large eye opens in the center, intently staring into the window. 

A woman screams.

So does Chris.

Josh clutches Chris' hand, air lodged into his throat and that large eye turns to them, unblinking and white, so so white, glossy film and inhuman and Josh can see dark tendrils spewing out from its head.

Josh runs, forcing Chris to move with him, numbing terror coursing through his veins and Chris let's go of his hands, screaming loudly as they run down the sidewalk. It doesn't follow and Josh isn't sure if he's grateful or sad because that means something bad might happen to someone else.

His dad is waiting at the end of the driveway, face alive with anger and relief when he notices them. He scoops them into his arms, burying his face in the crown of Josh's head and Josh hiccups softly before promptly bursting into tears, Chris' hand fisted into Josh's shirt as he cries into Bob's shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. You're both safe." He whispers softly, turning to walk back up to the house. Melinda is standing in the doorway, Hannah and Beth clutching at her skirt and they reach for Bob when he's close.

Josh's mother wraps her arms around them, cheeks wet with tears and she's breathing into Josh's ear, whispering "thank god, thank god" over and over and Josh can't help but think if Chris walked home alone, Chris sneaking out to go see the stars. Would he still be here? 

Beth refuses to leave their side, Hannah fiercely crying because she was scared they would be abducted. His dad stays with them in the basement, Melinda calling around to their friends and neighbors.

"Come in, Josh. Chris?" Sam's weak voice startles Josh, his walkie talkie buzzing around in his pocket. "Please..."

Chris scrambles to grab his walkie talkie, the clam shape fitting into his hand easily as he shakily brings it to his lips. "Sam! Are you okay?"

Josh scoots closer to him, Hannah hurrying over when Sam starts speaking again, Beth climbing into Josh's lap.

"Y-Yes. Our power is down here." Sam tells them. "I'm scared. My dad left and he hasn't come back."

"Did Jess make it home okay?" Josh asks quickly.

"Yes. She's here." Sam answers, her voice shaky and small. "... My mom's calling. I'll be back."

"Over." Chris says numbly. He stares down at his walkie talkie, breathing softly through his nose.

"She's okay, Chris." Hannah says, patting his knees. Chris nods sullenly. "You guys wanna watch Wall-E?" 

Chris doesn't answer but Beth does, hurrying up to her twin to help. Josh watches them go, scooting over on the couch. He places a hand over Chris'. Chris looks at him.

"Do you think my mom is okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, Cochise." Josh says but he doesn't know, has a glimmer of hope that she is. Chris leans against him, cheek resting along Josh's shoulder and Josh lays his head on Chris'. 

Hannah and Beth lay on the floor, using pillows and blankets to create a make shift bed, easily distracted by the movie but Josh's mind stays on the alien they saw, kind of saw, it's body mostly encased in shadows with one big, big white eye. 

"I'm sorry you didn't get to see the Big Dipper." Chris whispers softly.

"It's okay."

"I'm scared, Josh." 

Josh nudges Chris' head with his own until the other looks at him, murky blue, feckless muted fear and Josh presses their foreheads together, noses brushing and he squeezes Chris' hand. 

"I'm here for you, okay? Nothing will happen to you."

Chris closes his eyes and nods. "Promise?"

"Promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this differently at first but then I wanted suffering™
> 
> Next Episode: Meet Matt, who Josh calls Gubby and Mike, whose an asshole


	4. Gastric Acid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh just wants a good day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: scary images, sad babies, therapy session, general sadness

"You know, I can't help if you don't talk to me."

Josh doesn't respond, staring at the tops of his knees, hands folded in his lap, eyes tired and dry. They might be red, Josh isn't sure, but he's never felt more exhausted, more thin and frail, like paper on the wind, an oar swept out to sea.

Dr. Wilson shifts across from him, the points of her black shoes barely reaching Josh's vision, scrape, scrape of pen over paper, a sound Josh has grown tired of hearing. It usually meant more pills, more days when he can't leave the house because he's drowsy and sick, more arguing, with his mom, his dad, Beth.

"Josh."

Josh doesn't look up, wilts a little at the fatigue in her voice and rubs the bridge of his nose until it pinches and hurts. He didn't want to come, today, yesterday, last week, would much rather stay at home listening to the static that comes from his TV, dark whispers, Chris' tape, whirring and rewinding as though it continues playing even when the screen is black.

Josh has only watched it a few more times after seeing it with Chris, the contents constantly changing. Words, images and no matter how often Josh paid attention everything would be different, except for the speaker, the steady constant, raspy and tired. Blurred clippings of a boy kissing a girl with red, red hair, a sky that's blue with clouds, fresh tombstones. Old newspaper clippings, a mountain, more tombstones.

The tape always ended the same, a white screen that ended with "I'm sorry" before black noise comes back, high frequency humming and sometimes Josh would see his own reflection in the dark, eyes blown impossibly wide and discolored and each time afterwards, he'd get a nosebleed.

Honestly, if Josh wants to talk about anything, it's that. The tape. The still silence that follows where everything halts, the air, time, his siblings yelling in the hallway, where the world seems to pause, give breath and sigh.

"Josh? Are you listening?"

No. Josh rubs his forehead into his knees, head aching with each deep inhale. Dr. Wilson continues talking, Josh can tell, hears that muffled voice press against the growing fog in his mind and bites back a sigh when that scratch, scratch noise is back.

Josh forces himself back, soft cushions feeling like needles in his spine, leather chair achy and uncomfortable like everything in Dr. Wilson's office. He takes in the low ceilings, wide windows draped in soft blue curtains. Jess said blue was a color of comfort, Josh doesn't believe her because he's sat in this room too long and has never been comfortable.

Dr. Wilson stares at him, her mouth a fine plum line, one leg folded over the other, tapping the tip of her pen on her clipboard. She sighs, then smiles. It's pleasant, doesn't seem fake, but Josh can still see her expression closing off.

"The governor is rezoning Holidays." Dr. Wilson mentions softly, dark eyes focused on Josh. "More people have gone missing."

"People have been missing." Josh retorts, stretching out his legs. He shifts in his seat, tugging at the buttons of Chris' cardigan, shoulders aching with each movement. It still smelt like Chris, strawberry shampoo, pine sol but it wasn't warm anymore.

"You've heard about the missing persons? A little advanced for your age."

Josh wasn't stupid, has heard his parents talking at the kitchen table, teacher's whispering in hallways. People getting up and leaving, some coming back but not remembering anyone. Aliens. The idea was almost laughable if there wasn't a giant ship that settled over their city, waiting, growing blacker with each passing day. Josh caught news of the President and Japan getting together to bomb it.

Target practice.

"Okay," Dr. Wilson smiles as if sensing Josh's growing restlessness. "Let's talk about good things."

Josh glances at the analog clock on the wall, Dr. Wilson notices, smoothing her skirt down as she crosses then straightens her legs.

"Have you made any new friends? With the recent merge?"

Josh nods, "His name is Matt."

"Oh? That's good. What's his last name?"

"Jarvis. He wants to be a robot for Halloween." Josh informs her. "He's nice."

Most days but Matt spent most of their time together, quiet and watchful, eyes unfocused as if thinking and Josh has heard rumors about Matt's family, how he has to live with his grandmother, why Matt is afraid to go to the bathroom by himself. Josh doesn't like thinking about it, can't imagine if his mother forgot him and tried to hold his head underwater because she thought he was a monster.

"Any crushes? Girlfriends?"

Josh didn't know. Thoughts like that made him nervous but he's not entirely sure why. He knows it's to be expected for his age but he'd only think of Chris, which was bothersome. Josh roughly rubs his arm.

"No."

Dr. Wilson studies him. "You're closing off again."

Josh doesn't look at her.

A sigh. "Well, we are out of time for today. During the weekend, I'd like," Josh tunes her out, nodding absently through her gentle tone, his fingers lightly touching the edge of his walkie talkie, feels it buzz beneath the fabric.

"Josh, are you listening?"

"Yeah," Josh lies. "I get it."

Dr. Wilson says no more, walks him to the door as she always does with his parents on the other side, the waiting room small and empty. His dad looks up, knuckling his nose with a small smile as he rises to his feet, Josh's mom glancing up briefly from her magazine before setting it aside.

"How'd it go?" Bob asks, kneeling down in front of Josh but his eyes flicker up to Dr. Wilson.

"Okay." Josh answers.

That earns him an understanding smile, his father's face lighting up with a familiar warmth. "Good game, bud."

Josh doesn't feel like he deserves it. His parents told him to be honest, talking was his job so Dr. Wilson can do hers but he didn't feel like talking today, doesn't feel like doing anything except going home.

His dad ruffles Josh's hair fondly, straightening as Josh moves towards Melinda, her white smile waiting for him. She studies his face, sighs, and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Josh rubs it off, embarrassed.

"Oh yes, I forgot," She grins and Josh knows she didn't forget at all. "We have a surprise for you."

"What is it?"

His mom frowns, still smiling. "That's why it's a surprise."

Josh nods, "Did Han go to the doctor?"

"Yes, yes, she'll tell you more about it."

"Okay."

Bob is still speaking to Dr. Wilson when Josh and Melinda are ready to leave, Josh feeling nervous when his dad's eyes widen slightly before he's frowning, glancing down at his shoes then back up to Dr. Wilson.

Josh's mom takes his hand. "Let's go wait in the car."

The walk is quiet, tangible, and Josh squeezes Melinda's hand tightly as guilt eats away at him. She peers down at him, the arch in her eyebrows creasing slightly. His face must be distressed because she pauses once they're outside the building, bending down beside him, her gaze warm, lovely shades of green and brown, smile gentle, patient.

"It's okay." She says softly, kissing the back of his hand. "You came. That's all we can ask."

"But.."

"Joshua," His mother pinches his nose lightly. "We will never be upset at you for trying. You came today, that is trying. You sat in that room, that is trying. Do you understand?"

Josh nods, sniffing softly.

"We love you." Melinda says. "We don't consider this a waste of time or a burden. You are our son."

"Okay." Josh breathes. "Okay."

Melinda grins, pecking his nose again and Josh can't find it within himself to be annoyed, clutching her hand tighter as he follows her to his dad's Porsche. She pries open the door for him, fondly pushing back his hair once he’s settled in his seat before she closes the door, moving to the passenger seat.

Bob joins them shortly, dramatically throwing himself into the driver's seat and the SUV rocks once then twice, Josh giggling in the back when Melinda slaps Bob's arm lightly. Bob grins back at him before starting the car.

"You ready for the surprise?" His father asks, meeting Josh's gaze in the rearview mirror as he drives.

"Yes."

Melinda bends down in her seat, tugging a bag out from underneath the dashboard, small, two handled and she holds it out to him. Josh takes it, paper crinkling under his hands. He peers inside, an apple shaped wrapped package settled in the bottom.

"You said you wanted to give one to Matt."

Josh beams. "This is so great."

"Your old man's still got it." His dad smiles broadly. "There's a new frequency because of government stuff but five should work fine."

"Thank you." Josh says.

"You're welcome, bud."

"We're still considering getting you a cellphone." Melinda adds on. "For us. Then you can communicate with your friends on those."

"Good thing I'm so organized." Josh snorts.

"More organized than me, kiddo. My socks are mismatched." His father retorts.

Josh smiles to himself, staring down into the bag in his lap. He feels fortunate, that his parents were so accommodating, maybe they thought it helped him not feel so alone, maybe they realized how important his friends were, Josh wasn't sure.

Josh shifts, tugging his walkie talkie from his pocket, a blue light flashing in the corner. He turns the dial. The light turns red, blinking rapidly as an onslaught of voices filter through. Sam then Mike then Jess. Josh turns the dial again, the light blinking green. Silence. Josh brings it to his lips, pauses.

Josh doesn’t want to talk about it. He falls silent, staring out his window, the passing houses and landscape, broken fences and empty buildings. Their city was shifting, moving further and further away from the ship because no one wanted to uproot their lives, themselves. Weren’t they being uprooted, the fear that came with knowing one day your mother or sister or cousin might get up and leave and you may never see them again? Josh didn’t know if his parent’s planned on leaving but he’d want Chris and Sam to come with them.

Josh switches the walkie talkie off, bringing his knees to his chest, face buried in denim and tries to breathe. He shouldn’t’ve called to begin with, should’ve settled in the backseat as he always does after sessions and count how often it takes for him to breathe normally.

His parent’s don’t say anything, passing glances at one another and Melinda turns in her seat, thumbing away the tension in her son’s knuckles when she reaches out to him. No questions asked, easy built up understanding that makes Josh feels nauseous. Josh closes his eyes, squeezes them until black dots colors and shapes and he wants to talk to Chris but everything feels awful, complicated, like he’s on fire. His mother said he was trying, but he wasn’t.

“You want to talk?” His dad asks timidly. “About anything? We’re here for you.”

No. No. “No.”

“Whenever you need us, sweetheart.” His mother replies, loving, understanding.

Josh wants to throw up.

The twins aren’t home when they return, Melinda mentioning briefly that they’re at Sam’s but the house is too empty for Josh, too quiet and he’s afraid to go to his room, where that tape sits in wait, strange, a never ending story that Josh doesn’t understand.

“Curfew is at 9.” Bob tells him when Josh begins to tug at the sleeves of his pullover.

“Okay.” Josh answers and his father sighs then smiles, tugging off the ratty, old Alumni sweater he’s wearing. He helps Josh pull it on, smoothing out the collar and roll up the sleeves. Bob presses their foreheads together, cupping Josh’s face in his hands. 

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

“Alright, buddy. I’m on channel 10.”

Josh nods. “Thank you.”

“One word,” Bob tells him. “And I will come get you. I don’t care if the world ends. I will come for you, do you understand?”

Josh nods again, unsure of why his father is so serious right now. The aliens only appeared at night and that was if they even decided to show, actual sightings and visuals few and far between.

Bob ruffles Josh’s hair fondly, standing in the doorway to their house as Josh climbs his bike, steadying it briefly, a salute pressed to his brow that his dad returns with a goofy smile. Josh takes off, coasting along the driveway’s curve, bracing himself on the handlebars as he begins to peddle, wind soft and comforting. 

The park is empty, swings moving slightly against the wind. A bird chirps in the distance, wood chips crunching under Josh's boots, trees rustling with leaves, wet puddles formed under the mouth of the slide, the creak of the roundabout steady, rhythmic.

Josh slumps down on a swing, rocking slightly. This isn't what he wanted either. His walkie talkie vibrates in his pocket and Josh pulls it out, flicking the switch.

"Josh?" Chris' voice filters through, sounding tired, worn. 

"Hey, Cochise."

A sigh. "I'm walking to your house. Are you home?"

"I'm at the park." Josh responds easily, grasping the metal links of his swing.

A pause. "I went to Sam's but Mrs. Finnegan said they were having girl time. I... I kinda wanted to hang out. All of us. I have Mi-"

"Hey, Josh!!" Mike's shrill voice filters through, startling him. 

"Hey, Mike." Josh clears his throat. "Are you guys almost here?"

"Yeah," Chris responds. "I have Matt with me too. They keep flirting."

The last part is said softly, almost a whisper followed by a grunt, Chris' tone turned whiny as Mike defends himself in the background. The racket seems louder, more defined so Josh stands up, checking the edges of the park until he spots the other boys in the distance, Matt waking his bike as Chris and Mike bicker. He waves enthusiastically, mouth stretched into a pleasant smile. 

Josh meets them halfway, pocketing his walkie talkie with a raised eyebrow because Chris and Mike were still going at it.

"We aren't flirting." Mike argues, his cheeks bright red. "That's gay."

"Seemed like it to me." Chris smirks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Oh ho ho since you're the expert, Christopher," Mike huffs, tugging on his leather jacket's ends. "Let's talk about you and Ashley."

Chris flushes crimson. 

Josh blinks, fighting a frown. "Who?"

Mike grins, "Your boy has a crush on a girl. A girl he can't even talk too."

"I can talk to her!" Chris says desperately, looking to Matt for confirmation. The other boy nods, expression sympathetic when Mike gasps weakly, betrayed.

"Bro."

"They're just friends, Mike." Matt sighs, leaning on his bike. "But, I don't know, Chris. Mike's right. It seems like you.. Like like her."

Chris gapes. "I do not." 

Matt raises an eyebrow at him, Mike smirking triumphantly and Josh wants a hole to open in the earth. His stomach aches a bit, twists deep along the pit of his belly and settles, raveling and unraveling, clench and shift, clench and shift. 

Josh's mouth feels dry. He tries to swallow.

"Who?"

"Oh, forgot you don't go to our school," Mike hums thoughtfully. "I heard that's gonna change soon."

"Who said?" Matt inquires.

"Sam."

Josh tunes them out, focused on the spreading blush Chris wears, tips of ears stained pink, cheeks turning a deeper and deeper shade and oh. Josh tries to swallow again but he coughs harshly, knots in his stomach growing tighter and tighter.

"He's just being dumb, preach." Chris manages to say and Josh isn't sure what his friend sees in his face, what possible expression Josh could be making that makes Chris' entire body tense, mouth quivering to further defend himself.

Oh.

"It's okay." Josh forces himself to say. "Yeah, it's okay." 

"Josh-"

"What were you guys doing?" Josh interrupts, turning Mike and Matt, who seem unaware of their exchange. Mike in mid sentence as Matt rolls his eyes towards Josh.

"We were going to check out the Zone." Mike tells him.

"Mike," Matt corrects. "Mike wants to check it out."

"Isn't it closed off?" Josh frowns, avoiding Chris' insistent gaze. "It's monitored." 

"Not on the east side." Mike grins. "Come on, dudes. I expected this from Sam but not you guys. Washington, my man, let's look at some alien shit."

Chris is looking at Josh, either because of the conversation Josh is refusing to have or because Josh actually is interested in seeing the ship up close. Josh doesn't know but he's nodding, forcing himself to smile in earnest.

It's hard, makes his jaw ache and Matt groans weakly as if he was depending on Josh's answer to convince Mike not to go.

"Guess I'll go too." Matt grumbles, hopping onto his bike. "I'm the better driver anyway."

"You've never let me down, Mattatat." Mike grins, climbing onto the pegs of Matt's bike.

Matt groans again, looking to Josh. "Chris is gonna ride with you, considering no one brought their dumb bikes but us."

Josh looks to Chris, who is staring at the ground, hands curled tightly into fists. He nods, bumping Chris' shoulder until the other looks at him. 

"Let's go." 

Chris trails behind him, pouty, bottom lip red from the constant rub of teeth against them. He reaches for Josh's elbow, grasping it tightly and Josh tries to shrug it off but Chris squeezes. Josh turns to him.

"What?" Josh snaps, stomach bubbling and his eyes burn.

"That's not what that is."

Josh blinks. "What?"

"Ashley."

"I don't care." Josh grinds out.

"You do." Chris says softly, his hand still curled around Josh's elbow, their proximity growing smaller and smaller with each passing breath. Chris' face softens, as does his grip, thumb rubbing slowly against Josh's sleeve. 

"Don't lie to me." Chris whispers, blue eyes staring deep into Josh's. "You do care."

Josh fights to breathe, mind scrambling to think of a retort, trying so, so hard to keep his expression neutral and blank but he doesn't know how, doesn't know what this is because it didn't matter if Chris had a crush on someone else, it didn't matter. 

"You guys done being gay?" Mike's voice interrupts and Josh can practically hear the grin in the other boy's voice. Josh snatches his elbow away, quickly hurrying to his bike, throat burning with oxygen, eyes dry and heavy and he really, really wants to throw up.

Chris climbs on once Josh is settled on his bike, his hands on Josh's shoulders, his waist, curling against his back, the warmth of his breath pressed along Josh's neck. Josh clears his throat but Chris doesn't move, so Josh focuses on following Matt. 

Mike was right. The east side of the Zone's perimeter was empty, buildings in various stages of neglect and desolation, litter scattered about the streets. No sign of military men in black, no signs of life at all, the only thing standing between them and the ship is a shabby metal fence with a warning sign on the front.

It's terrifying up close, the ship, shaped hard and menacing without details as if the dark color was to shade it's true identity. If Josh is honest he'd say it looks 2D, flat black, like something out of an old comic. 

Mike finds a small opening near an old In N Out building that's missing its roof, blown up, bits of brick laid around it. He goes through first, holding the metal open for the rest of them to filter through. 

It feels like moving through water as if a force field settles just on the fence, invisible, undetectable because it feels as though gravity has dropped a bit, everything feeling lighter, tangible. Pieces of rubble float a few centimeters from the ground, rocks trembling as they break down and smoothen then repeat the process. 

No one says anything, Chris grasping Josh's hand tightly as they trail behind Mike and Matt, the other two moving close together. It reminds Josh of what happens after he watches the tape, that stillness, the silence that cannot be penetrated by the outside world.

Josh's hand trembles in Chris' as they move closer and closer to the ship, a dark cylinder pooling down from underneath. It shimmers faintly, a quick bathe of light, the inside metallic and silver and Josh blinks, it's gone, the 2D black settling back.

A low hum rings through the air.

"Let's go back." Matt says, his voice tight.

"What?" Mike says, exasperated. "It's not dark. Nothing-"

A sharp clack of plastic hitting cement startles them, clicking, rapid taps of metal on concrete following. Josh stiffens, Chris cursing low under his breath as he presses closer. Nothing appears but the hum grows louder, that dark cylinder spinning rapidly, slowly opening up, a bright light settled at the end.

"We need to go." Chris insists, already reaching out to grab Mike's arm. 

There's something large at the end, moving towards them from inside the opened cylinder and Matt grabs Mike's hand, yanking and pulling and they're running. 

Josh doesn't look back, heart pounding in his chest as he runs alongside the others. The ground trembles, stills and cracks, a hard crash sounding through the air. Gravity shifts, ground pulled out from under them, their feet hovering just above the ground before everything settles.

Josh slams to the ground, dizzy, chin bruising under his weight, coughing raggedly and there are hands on him, pulling and struggling. Josh barely makes out their words, Matt's horrified panicked expression the first thing he sees and then.

Josh chokes on a scream.

A translucent creature stalks toward them, bluish in tints of the sun. It's tall, almost blob shaped, the varying sizes of its limb disproportionate to its fleshy body. It roars, textured skin stretching into a blue goo, multiple limbs forming inside its clear body, reaching with long digits and Mike is screaming in Josh's ear. 

Josh manages to get to his feet, turning away just in time to see the ripple in its stomach, a cage forming and Chris nearly trips, Josh grasping his friends hand to keep him steady, Mike barreling through the opening the gate, Matt close behind. 

The ground thunders behind them and Josh is sure they aren't going to make it, eyes blinded with tears and he shoves Chris forward, desperate to keep the other boy alive. Chris looks back, eyes rimmed red and blue and he crosses to the other side, sleeve ripping on a broken piece of the fence. 

Josh stumbles over his steps, legs wobbling and his knees hit the ground angrily, pain rippling through his entire body but it doesn't block out the terror, the fear, his eyes meeting Chris'.

That silence is back, everything slow, like hands through water, thick and Josh could grasp this emptiness between his teeth. Chris is reaching for him, Mike and Matt screaming, jumping up and down and it's all so, so slow.

He was going to die.

Josh was going to die.

He can't find it within himself to breathe, another horrible roar filling the air, breaking the drag in reality and time speeds up too fast, too quick and Chris is shouting at Josh, Josh, who claws his ways towards them, legs fighting for purchase and his hand grips Chris' tightly.

Chris yanks, Matt and Mike braced behind him, all heaving Josh through the narrow opening just as a cold slime drips onto his legs. Josh doesn't look back, eyes focused on his bike. Get on the bike, get home, get on the bike, get home.

Chris clutches Josh's torso, breathing raggedly as they take off, Matt and Mike fiercely moving beside them. The sounds of the city greets them, drowning out the rapid beats of their hearts and Josh doesn't know if that thing was following, if it would cross whatever barrier that separates that world from this one but Josh doesn't focus on that, tries to keep his limbs straight and even, Chris pressing sob after sob into his spine. 

They barely reach the park, collapsing to the ground with muted grunts of pain, eyes still trembling with terror and fear and Mike keeps saying he's "sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry" over and over until Matt pulls him tightly into a hug.

Chris clutches at Josh's pullover, shaking him roughly and snot drips down his nose, angry and red and so, so scared.

"Don't do that." Chris manages. "Don't you fucking do that."

Josh can't find words, tears slipping down his cheeks and pulls Chris close to him, face pressed close together, fingers intertwined and a laugh bubbles from his chest, then a sob. 

"Don't.. D-Don't.." Chris hiccups, a gross sob escaping his lips. "What would I do? What would I tell them?"

"I'm sorry." Josh manages, crying softly. "I'm sorry."

Chris punches him weakly. "You can't do that."

"I won't. I won't." Josh promises.

Chris nods fiercely, sniffing as tears continue to slide down his cheeks. He leans forward, forehead to forehead, noses brushing, hands on Josh's shoulders.

"It's not a crush."

"God, Chris," Josh whimpers.

"It's not." Chris sobs. "It can't be. It doesn't feel the same." 

Josh doesn't know what that means but tries to comfort Chris as best he can when his own stomach feels hollow and empty and fuck, fuck, fuck. Josh wipes Chris' tears with his thumbs.

It takes a while for them to move, Matt holding a crying Mike close, his back pressed into Josh's and when they do finally move its when the sun has almost settled, pink stretching into burgundy and no one wants to go home. 

"Can we stay at your house?" Mike asks nervously. He looks ashamed, guilt worn on his features like day old bread. 

"Yeah." Josh answers.

His dad is pissed when they arrive, frown so deep Josh is afraid that he's going to melt but he must see something, in their faces, in Josh that makes some of that anger dimmer, dwindle away and he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as Melinda makes calls to their parents. 

Bob makes them pallets in the Washington theater, Beth providing pillows and much needed guidance when it comes to selecting Disney movies. They settle on Mulan but none of the boys pay attention, eyes locked on the ceiling.

Matt shifts restlessly. "What if it finds us?"

"It won't." Josh answers quickly.

"How do you know?" 

"I'm smart." Josh manages.

Chris chuckles weakly. "You got a C in Earth Science."

Josh nudges him. "Shut up, Chris."

"It won't find us." Mike says, voice confident. "I know. I'm going to be president one day."

"Didn't you get F in English?" Matt counters and Mike makes a noise, low giggling following when Matt starts wiggling.

"Stop, dude."

"Stop being ticklish." Mike retorts.

"God, they're gay." Chris snorts, rolling to face Josh. 

"Because this isn't." Josh smirks, mirroring Chris' position. Chris smiles, brief and fleeting, eyes watering and he blinks, once then twice. He moves closer, buries his head under Josh's chin and Josh wraps an arm around him. Their hands meet somewhere in the middle, warm and trembling.

"We're okay." Josh whispers.

"Nothing's okay." Chris mutters. "Don't do it again."

"Do what?"

Chris looks up and meets his gaze. "Save me."

"I.. You can't ask me to do that." Josh sighs.

"Don't. Fucking. Do. It." Chris says fiercely. "Promise me."

"I-"

"Promise." 

Josh swallows, blinking rapidly. "I can't."

Chris weakly punches him, then again, and again until the other tires, tears streaming down his cheeks. Josh pulls Chris to him, listening to the soft sobs that escape.

"You can't leave too." Chris whimpers.

"I won't leave you." Josh promises.

It takes a while for Chris to settle down, a while for him to sleep, although the fitfully, but Josh keeps their hands connected, listens to the credits play on the screen and tries not to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was decent. Anyway.  
> [Jazz](http://jazzarray.tumblr.com) helped me with the beautiful, most amazing alien idea.
> 
> In the next episode:  
> It's gay as fuck. Let me live.


	5. Cerebrospinal Fluid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honey, honey, iced tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There are none unless you count babies being CUTE

"In other news, the Govenor is placing in a curfew until further notice. Dr. Bates has this to say about the recent developments. Dr. Bates-"

Josh glances over at Jess, her head tucked into her hand, eyes closed, napping soundly. He examines their classroom, Mrs. Gilfoyle busying herself with the TV, a strange looking man nodding to the interviewer whenever she asks him a question. Josh fights back a groan, tapping restlessly on the surface of his desk.

Matt is in a similar state of boredom, scribbling monsters into the binding of his notebook. He never brought up the incident, Chris didn't either but Mike seemed adamant in telling tales to kids who didn't go to their school, something heroic, something that didn't make them seem as they are; children caught up in something horrible.

Josh tears a piece of paper out of his notebook, ripping it up into tiny shreds. He catches Matt’s curious gaze, rolling the small shreds into tiny balls. Josh gestures to Jess with his head, Matt perking up, a sly grin crossing his round face. Josh sets a few small balls onto Matt’s desk, forcing himself back as far as he’ll go in his seat, glancing from Jess’ serene expression to Matt’s devious one.

Flick.

It hits Jess on the tip of her nose, bouncing off and under the desk of the girl in front of her. Jess’ eyes don’t open but her lips twitch. Matt and Josh exchange a look. 

Josh nods.

Matt flicks another, one smacking into her hand, the other clinging to the bright pink lip gloss Jess wore that day. Josh raspberries, trying not to laugh when Jess cracks one eye open. Matt looks ahead stoically, Josh drumming the chorus to an old Bauhaus song on his desk. He’s hyperaware of the way she’s studying them both, annoyance rolling off her in waves. 

Jess uses two fingers to brush the ball off her lip, glaring at them briefly before her eye falls closed again. Matt sneaks a glance from beside Josh, readying his next attack and Josh joins, pinching a wad between his thumb and index finger. Matt fires first, then Josh, pieces of paper soaring through the air. 

Plop. Plop. 

Jess’ brow twitches, a white ball wedged into her hairline, the other stuck to her upper lip. Matt coughs weakly, slapping the top of his desk with a shaky laugh and Josh spits, air escaping and they’re both laughing at Jess’ bothered expression.

“Mr. Washington. Mr. Jarvis.” Mrs. Gilfoyle's voice startles them both, the turn of every students' eye a visible noise. 

Josh shrinks back in his seat. Matt shifting nervously.

“There have been reports of strange shadows appearing during the night, particularly on evenings that appear more red than usual.” The man on the TV says and Mrs. Nesbit’s stern eye moves from them, locked on the screen, remote clutched tightly in one hand. "We have cult leader, Jack Fessenden with us today. Welcome, Jack."

"Hello." It's an old man, voice raspy and worn, hair too thin on his round head, Jess would say he looked like a hobo. "It's good to be here."

"Your sermons have been gone quite viral recently." The TV host says with a smile. "All this talk of giving into the aliens, embracing the change. What's that all about?"

Jack clears his throat, "Earth finally gains truth of life bigger than ours and we run from it."

Josh tunes him out, more interested in the back of his hand than some old white man who thinks being invaded by aliens is a good thing, people going missing and families being left broken and empty, a good thing. The bell rings overhead, Josh flicking one last wad of paper at Jess before shoveling books into his bag. Jess reaches over and smacks him in the arm, frowning.

"You're such a shit." 

"Want me to walk you home, Jessica?" Josh grins and Jess recoils, grimacing as she slips out of her seat. Matt watches them with a soft expression, looking a bit out of place when Jess turns to him, a smile tucked in the corner of her mouth.

"We can walk Matthew home." Jess suggests.

"Excellent." Josh agrees.

Matt exhales, relieved. "Okay, okay."

Josh wonders when Matt will want to walk alone but he understands the fear that lingers when the shadows in buildings begin to flicker, how the air feels thick and heavy like how it did when they crossed the fence into the Zone. Jess never questioned why Josh went out of his way to walk Matt home, sometimes meeting Mike halfway but Josh thinks Jess just understands what discomfort looks like, when that turns to terror and the earth feels hollow.

"How's your mom?" Jess asks, looking to Matt. He shrugs, distracted, US History textbook tucked under his arm. "Josh told me you have one now."

"What?" Matt glances at her.

Jess pulls out her walkie talkie, fish shaped and worn, Josh thinks he can see claw marks in it but Jess never has it out for too long.

"O-Oh, yeah." Matt blushes. "Guess I'm part of the gang now."

Josh wants to tell Matt that he's been part of the gang since they first met, since they crossed that barrier but he doesn't, shoulders Matt roughly in the side until it gets him an annoyed smile and a elbow back. 

Mike is waiting at the halfway point, better known as Kinko's, some print screening place that Chris' mom uses. Mike brightens when he sees them, hair combed back, charming smile stretched across his face as he raises his hand in greeting. 

"Hey." Mike says once they're closer.

"We're delivering your boyfriend." Jess says bluntly and Mike sputters, Matt going red as he glares weakly at Jess. "Just saying. Have fun being gay."

"You never act this way around Chris and Josh." Mike mutters, cheeks pink.

Jess shrugs, dismissive and grabs Josh's hand. She waves as they walk away, Josh flailing uselessly, stumbling after Jess, Mike and Matt left alone to their awkward journey across the tracks.

"How'd you meet Chris?" Jess asks, staring up at the sky, arms outstretched, the straps of her tank top spilling along her shoulders. 

Josh shrugs, wiping his nose with his knuckle. He feels tired, exhausted even, school a constant whisper of sleepless nights. He missed Chris but he wasn't about to start blowing up Chris' walkie talkie because he's lonely. It didn't feel right.

"You know. Don't lie." Jess smiles at him. "Tell me."

"Why is this important to you? You tell Sam how you feel yet?" Josh asks her, his elbows brushing Jess' as they walk. Jess shakes her head, amused, stretching widely before she rolls up, spine cracking as she goes, a pink smile sliding across her face. 

"Sam is beside herself with Beth." 

"Jealous?" Josh asks her and Jess sighs as if remembering years of empty conversations that might feel like the headaches Josh gets, the kind that form along his temples as he strains to remember anything beyond yesterday. It curls his stomach, makes his throat dry and he wants to heave, swallowing down sour emotions like pills. 

"I am jealous. Is it wrong to want to destroy it? What they have?" 

"You've been watching too many movies." 

"I met her." Jess says suddenly, licking gloss from her lips. "The girl from my dream. Some type of otherworldly nonsense. She's a fucking bitch." 

"Who is she?" 

Jess shrugs, sighing. "I saw her in a dream and she's real. How crazy is that? The girl from my dream, the same dream I've had for years is a real person." 

"What?"

Jess changes the subject. "How'd you meet Chris?" 

"I met him in third grade. Pretty sure you were there. Everyone was. It was the day the sky turned pink." 

"Ah," Jess giggles. "and the blue in the sky vanished. The adults were beside themselves, kept school closed, shuttling kids out. My parents were so pissed." 

Josh frowns, "You have parents?" 

Of course I do. Everyone does," Jess sighs, expression blocked from Josh's vision but he can tell she's thinking, shoulders lined with frustration, with annoyance. "How old are we now, Josh?" 

"You're 12, I'm 13." 

"How complicated. No other teenagers had to deal with a pink sky." Jess giggles, rolling her head up to look at Josh. "You should tell Chris before it's too late." 

Josh reddens, flushing warm as he looks away, the burning grin of Jess' stare boring into the side of his face. “Tell him what?”

"Or don't." Jess says noncommittally. "It's just a crush right? What does your crush feel like?" 

Like fireworks, like rain after too much sun, the moment when green becomes greener and blue melts along the sky like ice cream. 

"Nothing." 

"Liar." Jess smirks. 

"What is-" 

Jess seizes up, hand pressed on his shoulder, lips melting against his and Josh's insides twist, familiar buzzing filling his head like static, breath clicking in his lungs and it's not like how he imagines kissing Chris is but it's almost there, almost, almost. Jess pulls away, eyes dark and grey and her mind works through motions on her face, the opening and closing of her mouth, the clench in her jaw and for the first time, the first time since Josh has known her, he feels as though they're the same. 

"Jess?" 

"Never kissed a boy before." Jess mutters, voice heavy and dry and she coughs until her body shakes, blinking rapidly as a weird smile slides onto her face. "Wanna do it again?" 

"Yeah, okay." Josh responds, licking his lips and he actually stops this time on the sidewalk, placing a hand on Jess' waist, feels the soft skin under her shirt. Jess rolls her eyes, smile wavering, and she tilts her head to the side. Josh kisses her. It's his first kiss and he's a bit beside himself that a girl wants to kiss him, more so that Jess does because she was pretty, cute with round, round eyes. He kind of likes the way gloss feels against his mouth, kind of likes how he can feel Jess’ hesitation when her hand reaches for his, thumb brushing over his knuckles. Jess moves away first, cheeks pink. 

"You should tell him."

Josh blinks. "What?"

"We're not who the other wants." Jess huffs, suddenly irritated. "How awful is that."

It's not a question but it still rings in Josh's head like one and he can't help but think of Chris, of the girl he found out about from Mike. Chris said it didn't feel the same but the movies say that people say weird things when they're scared. 

Jess squeezes Josh's hand before releasing it, taking a step back then another and Josh watches her confused expression melt into pained indifference as if her words were true, as if in their small lives they've met their forever but it's not guaranteed, it's barely there.

"Talk to her." Josh says and Jess looks up at him, eyes sparkling and watery and she forces a smile, nods and turns away, disappearing behind a sea of uncertainty and sweat that stings Josh's eyes under the summer sun, or maybe they're tears.

Josh wipes his eyes furiously, looks down the sidewalk and heads the opposite way of his house, almost wanting to run, heart beating away to harsh anxiety and he wants to see Chris. Josh doesn't register the books that fall from his hands, the heavy pound of his feet against the cement and he's panting by the time he reaches Chris' house, choking on a ball of spit that feels like a sob.

Emma’s boyfriend, Ian, is sitting on the porch to Chris' house, the exterior far shabbier than Josh remembers and it could be that he hasn't actually been to Chris' house in so long. The yard is overgrown, patches of dirty covering the stone pathway, door patched up with holes and a weird looking insignia. Josh pushes the gate open, making his way up to the stairs, heart heavy in his chest, hands in his pocket.

"Long time no see, Mr. Washington." Ian mock salutes, carving a block of wood with a small knife, a cigarette tucked between his lips, rocking back and forth in a rocking chair. He smiles warmly, blonde hair greasy with sweat, a knife in hand as he carves away at a tiny block of wood. He rocks to a stop, heavy boots planted firmly into the wood, eyes darting between Josh and the wooden animal he's creating. 

Josh raises a hand in greeting, following the stone path to the porch stairs. Emma's car isn't in the drive way and Josh almost regrets walking all the way here if Chris isn't actually home. 

"Chris here?" 

Ian nods, dragging his eyes up to Josh in a way that makes his skin crawl. He gestures to the house with the tiny knife, focusing back on the block of wood. Josh doesn't say anything, ascends the short stack of steps and pulls the screen door open. 

The house smells like cigarette smoke and dirty dish water, carpet clean, vacuum lines trailing through the living room. Most of the old family portraits that sat on the fireplace are gone replaced by just pictures of Chris and Emma. Josh maneuvers through the small house, stairs creaking as he wanders up them, glancing up at the sound of gunfire coming from the closest closed bedroom. Chris' room used to be at the end of the hall on the second floor but he changed rooms recently. Josh doesn't know why but the distance placed between Emma's room and Chris' was a tangible one. 

Josh doesn't knock, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. It sticks fast, a thick piece of string tied on the opposite end. The game pauses, Chris' wary expression coming into view. It brightens when he notices Josh, a wide smile spreading across his face. Josh's heart skips a beat. 

Chris unties the knot around his doorknob, pulling Josh into a tight hug once they're in the room together. Josh wants to ask why Chris keeps his bedroom door like this but he doesn't, inhales the sugary smell lingering along Chris' skin. 

"I thought you replaced me." Chris says jokingly, moving away from Josh, eyes narrowing as he smiles. 

"Nah," Josh snorts. "Only got room in my life for one nerd." 

"Ha, ha." Chris rolls his eyes. 

Josh wants to hug Chris again but he resists the urge and inhales around stale oxygen.

"Wanna go get ice cream?" 

"I have to ask my mom." Chris says sullenly. 

"Your mom's not home. Let's just go, Christopher." I need to talk to you, Josh wants to say but doesn't.

"Ugh," Chris smiles, shuffling about his room. He pushes his closet door open, fumbling with a jacket that's way too big and an additional shirt. 

Josh wrinkles his nose but makes no comment, pointedly looking away as Chris gets dressed. He takes in the general disarray, a lot like his own bedroom but it seems like Chris has gained more hobbies in their brief time apart, pieces of a computer resting on his desk, an Apps for Dummies book, bent and creased on his bed. 

"When did you become such a dweeb?" 

"Shut up, Josh." Chris huffs, struggling with pulling his shirt over his head. Josh wanders over, taking Chris' wrist in his hand. He guides the neck in place, smooths out the shoulders, Chris' cheeks bright red and Josh grins. 

"Fucking dweeb." 

"Wow, bro. Wow. You sound like a real teenager." 

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't know. We're best friends and you missed my birthday." 

Chris' expression crumples. "J-Josh." 

"I'm kidding, Cochise. It's fine." Josh says and he means it. Sam wouldn't be able to get away with that or Jess. "Let's go." 

Ian doesn't say anything when they leave, just lifts an eyebrow, too focused on his wooden carving to care. They walk side by side, Chris unnaturally quiet, eyes gazing at the horizon. He seems tired and Josh wants to hold his hand. 

"What are you doing for Halloween?" Josh asks. Chris shrugs. 

"Wanna come over? Dad made a homemade zombie movie." 

Chris glances over at Josh. "That'd be cool." 

"You can stay over." Josh tells him and Chris reaches for his hand, a small smile in place.

Josh takes it.

They buy ice cream from a woman rolling around a raggedy cart. Chris gets strawberry, Josh gets vanilla because it's secretly Chris' favorite no matter how often Chris gets strawberry. They find a place near the highway, patchy with grass, underneath the pink sky, the same place Chris took Josh to see the stars and instead they found aliens. Chris passes Josh an ice cream cone, sloppily licking at the melting cone in his other hand, gaze distant. Josh takes it, watching cars hurry by on the freeway, the only distance between them and the road is a weird wired fence, strung up to waist level, covered in weeds and mosquitos. 

Josh plops down in the grass, tugging his beanie over his ears as Chris continues to stand, Star Trek shirt too big, too loose around his thinning frame and these days Chris isn't smiling as much, isn't as talkative and Josh has grown used to waking up with Chris in his bed, the window cracked open. His parents don't ask whenever Chris comes down for breakfast, exchange one of those looks that feel like approval and Han and Beth will huddle Chris into a chair at the table and share their bacon with him until he makes a joke. Sometimes Sam would be there as well, her voice a bit less monotonous, her eyes a bit brighter and Beth would lean into her when their mom isn't looking, whisper softly in her ear and Josh wonders if he's the same with Chris.

Josh stopped asking about Chris' home, stopped coming by because loud voices make him nervous and the last time he stayed the night, he and Chris spent most of it on the roof outside Chris' window counting silver stars on a burgundy sky. Josh feels shit because he told Chris he’d come around more but it was hard and his therapist said something about avoiding negative energy. That’s all Chris’ house seemed to be. Negative energy.

"If you could leave Holidays where would you go?" Chris asks, glancing down at Josh. He shrugs, staring intently at the melting ice cream in his hand. His stomach twists up and he's not sure if his appetite has always been this fucking shitty but it's getting harder for him to keep stuff down. 

"Hollywood." Josh answers. "My dad says that the ground sparkles like diamonds. People are happy. There's no aliens."

"Oh," Chris replies. 

"Where would you go?" Josh looks up at him. 

"I'd try to find my dad." Chris answers quietly. "He said he'd be back by the time I turned 12. I'm 12, Josh. W-What if he doesn't come back?" 

A car honks in the distance, filling the static building in Josh's throat because he didn't know. His eyes trace through thin strands of green, the whisper of grasshoppers dipping down on thin leaves, beads of sunlight glistening against clouded pink and for the first time, Josh isn't sure what to say. Chris slumps down beside him, tossing his ice cream into the grass, expression miserable and meek, murkier gloss of tears lining his eyes. Josh doesn't know what to do, what to say so he throws his ice cream alongside Chris', flicking icky melted slime from his fingers. Chris leans against Josh, rests his head in the crook of Josh's neck, sniffing quietly, hands folded in his lap. Josh wraps an arm around Chris, runs a hand along Chris' bare skin. 

"If... If he doesn't come back," Josh tries, voice shaking. "I'll be here for you. I'll be your new dad. We can move away somewhere and I’ll take care of you. I'll buy you whatever you want for your birthday and Christmas." 

Chris laughs at that, dry and scratchy. "You mean, your parents will." 

"Their money is my money." Josh says. 

"Yeah, yeah." 

"I'm serious, Cochise." Josh nudges Chris' head, waits to see red staining white, the burning sting of hurt against blue and Chris blinks, once then twice, bottom lip trembling. Thick tears slide down his round cheeks, snot glistening under his nostrils, the broken, wet noise that rests along his tongue. 

Chris buries his face into Josh's collarbone, shoulders trembling and Josh holds him tightly, staring into the sun, the mechanical hum of the alien ship in his ear. He cards his fingers through Chris' hair, feels dirt and grime under his skin and tries to think of how to comfort, what his mother would say, what his dad would but nothing comes to mind.

"Can I ask you something?" Chris asks softly, dirt smearing across his cheeks when he wipes his face, murky blue focusing on Josh and he shrugs, nodding nervously. 

"Sure."

Chris looks away, lips parting but he doesn't say anything, glances down at his knees and his shoulders lift with a sigh. He shifts beside Josh, fingers brushing over knuckles, shoulders bumping and Josh tries to think of what Chris could want to ask, studying the lost expression Chris keeps wearing. 

Chris wets his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose and meets Josh's gaze, cheeks brightening and Josh swallows.

"Can I kiss you?"

Josh nods, "Okay."

Josh curls his pinkie finger over Chris', then his ring finger, biting his lip nervously and he breathes harshly through his nose. Chris glances down at their linked hands, gaze dragging up to meet Josh's and he leans forward.

It's quick, barely a peck, but Josh feels it, saliva hardening inside his throat as he swallows, Chris' downcast expression flickering back up to his. They both stare for a moment, silence drifting between them and Josh forces his throat to work, words dying on his tongue and Chris leans in again. Timid, wet and Josh thinks Chris feels like springtime before the sky turned pink, before the aliens, Chris feels like a breeze on a hot day, the stillness in the air and Josh squeezes Chris' hand when his throat tightens and his lungs scream and he wants, wants, wants.

Strawberry ice cream and salt, noses awkwardly slotted together and Josh places his palm on Chris' shoulder, presses his thumb into the singing pulse in Chris' neck and it's everything. Chris sighs against him, the soft exhale running along Josh's spine like warm honey and Chris tilts his head slightly, eyes heavy and so, so blue and Josh wonders if the loud pounding in his ears is his own heart. When Chris pulls away, Josh follows, grasping the front of Chris' shirt tightly and Chris might've smiled, might've said something, Josh isn't sure but he kisses back, holds Josh's elbows and pulls him down. 

"You're really warm." Chris comments idly, framing Josh's face in his hands, grunting when Josh squirms against him, elbows digging into ribs and Josh laughs.

"You callin' me hot, Cochise?"

Chris reddens, "O-Oh, wait. This-"

"Is pretty gay." Josh snorts, settling ontop of Chris, chin buried in his arms as he stares down at his best friend. Chris weakly pats Josh's shoulders, cheeks a bright red, and he manages a smile, shaky, quiet.

"I'd go with you." 

Chris looks down at him.

"To find your dad." Josh tells him. "If I could go anywhere."

Josh isn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't the watery laugh that followed, wasn't Chris wrapping his arms right around Josh and rolling them to their sides, forehead to forehead, legs tangled over itchy, dry grass. Chris touches Josh's face and presses their mouths together, once then twice, eyelashes wet with new tears and Chris grins widely, sniffing loudly.

"Thanks, preach."

Josh squeezes Chris' side. "'s what I'm here for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next episode:  
> We meet some new friends, some old friends, old monsters
> 
> also i read all your comments, pls excuse me as i die over them  
> take responsibility for my death, ya heathens


	6. Exudate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck the poh-lice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired. Have this trash.

Josh walks alone, shouldering past a group of boys that stand center in the hallway. He tries not to feel annoyed, shooting them a pointed glare when he moves by. His school had become more crowded, more faces he's never seen, trailers being built out back accommodate the increase in population. 

"We need more teachers. How can they do this to us? You want to blow up aliens, fine, but don't overcrowd schools just so you can play target practice." Mrs. Bartrund, eighth grade science teacher and local Godzilla expert, snaps, wrinkles creasing with a frown as she talks to another teacher Josh doesn't recognize. She notices Josh, her frown melting into a sweet smile so Josh waves, earning a head nod before she's turning back to her conversation.

Josh keeps moving, maneuvering through busy halls as he tries to hurry to the meeting place. He makes it outside, stale hot air hitting his face. His neck feel sticky, legs suffocating in the confines of his jeans and Josh isn't sure why Sam wanted to meet by the greenhouse but he's already pissed and sweaty enough to know Sam isn't picking the meeting spot ever again.

The greenhouse is in the back of the school, towards a field of wild poppies, a shitty, cracked sidewalk the only path you could take to it without getting bitten up by fire ants. Josh tries not to wheeze, shrugging off his flannel by the time he reaches the door, soft voices coming from inside.

Josh pushes open the door, Sam's bright face the first thing he sees, then Matt's. He steps inside, welcoming the soft misting feeling that slides over his skin and glares weakly at Sam.

"Too hot?" Sam bats her eyelashes.

"Fuck you, Sammy."

"Ooh Joshua, I'm telling your mom." Sam smirks, gesturing him to come over. Josh goes, flannel tucked under his arm, fingers pulling at his shirt, flapping soundlessly as he tries to cool down.

Matt holds out his fist, Josh bumping it with a smile. Sam and Matt are crowded around some weird looking plant, it's petals bright orange and spotted black, the stem covered in pulsing green sores.

"What is that?" Josh asks, leaning in closer. There's a dark purple stigma poking out of it and the entire flower trembles when Josh talks close to it, a low hum coming from it before it falls silent.

"Cool, right?" Sam grins, hands on her hips. "Matt found it on his window. We brought it here. Mr. Pudge's new friend."

Josh had almost completely forgotten about the cactus they planted. He straightens, the greenhouse door opening again and more voices join them. Josh perks up, turning to see Chris walking inside, his blonde hair disheveled and greasy. 

There's a girl with him, her hair a deep shade of red and Josh swears he's seen it before, her bright eyes focusing on him. Josh swallows, taking in her round cheeks, smile pretty and pink and Josh knows who she is without Chris having to introduce her.

"This is Ashley." Chris informs them, smile hesitant and Sam rolls her eyes.

"Hi, I'm Sam." Sam holds out her hand and Ashley shakes it with a light laugh, expression pleasant.

"We already know each other." Matt says, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. 

"Science buddies." Ashley tacks on and Matt blushes.

Chris looks to Josh, expectant, nervous and Josh tries not to seem disappointed in his friend's attitude.

"And you're Josh, right?" Ashley smiles, teeth pearly and Josh looks from Chris to her, matches her wide grin and holds out his hand. Ashley takes it with a laugh, shaking it easily.

"That's me."

"What are you guys doing here?" Ashley queries, blinking her wide eyes.

"Checking out this really neat flower." Josh tells her, gesturing for them to move over. Ashley moves to stand beside Matt, kneeling down beside it, mouth opened in muted awe.

"This is so neat." Ashley says and the flower quivers, hums before falling silent.

"Where'd you get it?" Chris asks, bumping Josh's shoulder when he walks over, their fingers brushing and Josh tries to keep his expression even when Chris' pinkie curls around his, the gesture hidden by Josh's flannel.

"I woke up this morning and it was tapping on my window." Matt informs them, scratching the back of his head. "It was attached to this weird vine that started growing along my house. There's more of them but this is the only one that bloomed."

"It's super neat." Sam tells him.

Ashley makes a noise of agreement. The intercom comes on, brief static before Principle Lopez's voice rings through.

"Good Afternoon, students, this is your principal speaking. Club activities will be beginning soon, all students who remain on the premises must be a part of a supervised club. If not, all students please return home or to the bus or car lane. Please remember there is a curfew in affect starting at 8. Have a great day."

Sam huffs, hands on her hips and she looks to the others, "Where's everyone heading?"

"I have to meet Jess at room," Matt checks the back of his hand, sloppy sharpie written across. "338?"

"What for?" Ashley asks.

"Drama club." Matt grumbles.

"Drama club?" 

Matt reddens, "We're spying on that girl. Emily, I think. The one she dreamed about. Man, that sounds weird to say out loud." 

"Imagine us who have to hear it." Sam quips and Ashley giggles. "I'd tag along but I have to go see Coach Bull." 

"About playing soft ball?" Chris inquires, taking a step away from Josh when Sam's eyes flicker down to their hidden hands.

"Yeah. I have my physical and everything." Sam pats her book bag as if emphasize her preparation. "Keep the channel open?"

They all nod, aside from Ashley, who frowns, confused by the phrase. She looks to Chris for an explanation. "Channel?"

"Josh gave us all walkies so we can talk."

Ashley's eyes go wide. "Oh wow. Like a cell phone?"

"Kind of." Josh answers, slipping his flannel back on. "It's more reliable, I guess. Don't have to worry about parents butting in."

Ashley nods, "That's really neat."

Josh glances away from her, down to the potted plant, how it stills after their voices quiet.

"Can I take it home?" Josh asks, looking to Matt.

"Um," Matt shrugs, shouldering his bag. "Sure. I guess. Why?"

"Hannah." Josh answers, reaching down to pick the pot up. The flower quivers softly, purple stigma tilting in the direction of Josh's mouth. 

"Yeah, dude." Matt responds, heading to the door. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Wait up, Matt." Sam calls, hurrying after him. "Bye guys."

Josh looks to Chris and Ashley. "Heading home?"

Ashley shakes her head, "We have Computer Club, which isn't what it sounds like. We mostly play WoW." Her face brightens. "Would you want to come?"

Josh tries not to recoil. "Oh, um, no. Thanks though."

Ashley deflates. "Oh. Alright. Next time then?"

"Yeah sure." Josh manages, can't help but feel his disappointment bubble up inside him, eyes avoiding Chris' and he stares down at the plant in his hands. Josh wanted to walk Chris home but he should probably get this to Hannah. 

"It was nice meeting you." Ashley tells him, smiling softly and Josh smiles back. 

"Yeah, same here."

Ashley heads to the door, throwing it open with little ease as she hurries down the steps, red, red hair bouncing behind her as she moves. Ashley holds it open, looking to Chris then to Josh then back.

"I'll meet you inside. It's hot." Ashley smiles again.

"O-Oh okay." Chris manages.

The door snaps closed when Ashley releases it, a gust of hot air hurrying inside. Josh swallows thickly, staring intently at the plant, it's thin, trembling stem and he feels Chris shift beside him, feels a sweaty hand touch his elbow, how warm it is.

Josh looks at him, holds the bright blue stare that gazes back and swallows. Chris mimics him.

"How's everything?" Chris asks.

"Fine." Josh answers. "You?"

"Yeah," Chris mumbles, doesn't seem to invested in the direction of their conversation. "Fine."

Silence drifts between them. Josh nudges Chris with his elbow and forces a small smile. Chris sighs, returns it with a shaky one of his own. He tilts forward, hesitant, meek and lightly touches Josh's other arm, moving closer and Josh turns to face him, gaze shifting down to Chris' mouth.

Chris leans in, his hand still on Josh's arm, the plant pressed between them and Josh let's his eyes fall close, feels lips push against his own and tries to calm the fierce beating of his heart. 

They part, brief, faces dark red and Josh grasps the front of Chris' shirt when they come back together, lingering, soft kisses pressed between each breath and Chris exhales shakily against him, blue eyes heavy, dark like the sea and Josh kisses him one last time.

Neither of them say anything but Chris smiles, cute and warm and it makes Josh's chest tight. He watches Chris step away, move over to the door and their eyes meet, Chris giving a small wave and he's out the door. 

Josh remembers how to breathe.

His heart beats painfully in his chest, stomach twisting almost violently and Josh feels himself smiling. He rubs his cheeks with his hand, glancing around the empty greenhouse, embarrassed as if someone was watching. 

"Just you and me." Josh whispers, relieved, and the plant titters quietly, stem vibrating and the sores tremble, shrinking in size before blowing back up, like its breathing. Josh brings it level with his face, the movement stops and he grins. Hannah was going to lose her shit.

Josh heads home from the greenhouse, sun catching over the tops of houses, men in military uniforms moving along the sidewalks. Josh can make out the newly formed zone, reconstructed, a 'No Unauthorized Personnel' sigh strewn up on wired fences, blockades set up with men standing along it, armed.

There's a group of people standing near the border, dressed in plain navy gowns, talking lowly to one another. There's a woman on the ground up front, her arms laid out and it seems as though she's praying.

Josh pauses on the sidewalk, watches others move to join her and someone in the back glances over their shoulder. It's Chris' mom, Emma, blonde hair waving along her shoulders and back. Her eyes go wide with recognition, smile gentle and warm and Josh smiles back. 

Emma heads towards him, her gown flowing in the summer wind and she studies the flower he holds before looking at him. "Long time."

"Yeah," Josh agrees. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Emma responds easily. "Are you heading home?"

Josh nods.

"I'll walk with you. It isn't safe." Emma tells him and Josh doesn't argue, setting his pace easily along side hers as they walk. He wants to ask if she's seen Chris recently or has talked to him because whenever Josh sneaks over to Chris' house, he only sees Ian, sitting on the porch, carving wooden animals.

"What were you doing?" Josh asks, glancing back at the group of people.

"Worship." Emma answers simply, hands clasped behind her back.

"Worshipping the aliens?"

"No." Emma laughs. "Old memories."

Josh blinks, confused, and Emma laughs. It's a musical sound. She doesn't make any attempts to explain or elaborate so Josh doesn't ask, stares down at the vibrating flower that rests in the pot and tries not to think of why her words make him so uneasy.

Emma walks him to his driveway, her blue eyes scanning the house at the top and she aims a stunning smile at him. "Take care of yourself, Joshua."

"I will." And Chris too, but Josh doesn't say that, Emma's eyes glittering as if she already knows and Josh wants to ask her why she can't be around more for her son, why she's hardly home. 

"Has he come back yet?" Josh finds himself saying.

Emma's face darkens, smile wavering. "No."

"I'm sorry." Josh tells her and he means it.

Emma crouches down before him, a gentle hand touching his face and she lightly ruffles his hair. "Give the tape another try, Josh."

"What.." Josh's voice tapers off, Emma standing and moving away from him without another word. Josh watches her go, fingers trembling around the flower pot, thoughts slamming together. How did she know about the tape? Did Chris tell her?

Josh stands at the edge of his driveway for longer than he'd care to admit, warily eying the closed window to his bedroom as he heads inside. The foyer holds Hannah's polka dot boots, Beth's dirtied soccer cleats absent and Josh inhales around the silence. He leaves his book bag on the couch, heads towards the kitchen, plant still in his hands. 

The backdoor is open, slid to one side, screen door netted and black, a fly is stuck in the corner, buzzing faintly. Josh unlatches it, watches the fly twirl drowsily before heading into his house. Josh almost frowns, knowing somehow it's going to get stuck in his room until it dies.

"Josh! You're home early." Josh turns at the sound of Hannah's voice. She's on her knees, in worn, stained nylon gloves, a clump of wilting weeds in one hand, the other holding a small shovel. Her hair is long, loosely wrapped up and clipped, dark strands falling into her face and Josh watches her face light up when she smiles, carefree, beautiful.

"I brought you something." Josh tells her, stepping out into the yard. Hannah regards him curiously, eyes locking on the plant in his hands and she rises to her feet, tossing weeds into a tin pale.

"From where?"

"Matt found it." Josh informs her.

Hannah examines it closely, face inching towards the strange flower and it quivers when she mutters softly. Hannah gasps, the flower humming out a low coo, stem shivering and she looks up at Josh, glasses sliding down her nose. 

"Cool right?" Josh grins.

"It's so weird." Hannah giggles. "Where did he find it?"

"On a vine growing along his house."

Hannah holds her hands out, fingers wiggling and Josh places it in her hold, smiling dumbly when Hannah continues to stare, surprised and curious. She looks at him.

"It's mine?"

"Yeah, Han."

Hannah smiles, it warms Josh's entire body. "Thank you."

"No problem." Josh shrugs, trailing after Hannah to the small patch of flowers she's planting. She sets the plant down beside her tin, patting damp earth for Josh to sit so he goes, sinking to his knees beside her. Hannah lets him hold the pale for her and they count ladybugs that dart around the summer air.

"Mom said you're seeing that doctor again." Josh watches Hannah rip another weed out.

"Yes. She is very nice." Hannah tells him. "We've been discussing the process, hormones, blah, blah, blah."

Josh nudges her. "Hey, it's important."

"Yeah." Hannah shrugs. "It's another thing. How's therapy? Mom said you were getting new medicine. Are they taking you off anything or is it..."

Just more. Another pill. 

"I haven't asked." Josh answers.

"Kind of important." Hannah straightens.

Josh looks at her. "It's just another thing."

"You're a brat." Hannah smiles. 

Josh shrugs, smug, and Hannah punches him in the arm, grinning widely before she moves back to her flowers. Josh remains beside her, the summer heat less exhausting here but he's starting to think school is just tiring and awful.

"Do you ever have dreams," Hannah licks her lips, delicately touching a drying petal of a tulip. "Of something that could've happened? Something that might've happened if you hadn't done something?"

"What?" Josh frowns, confused.

"Like, imagine, having a dream so detailed you can practically feel it happening. Like a memory. Maybe deja vu but it's never actually happened."

Josh frowns even harder. "From another life or something? Reincarnation?"

Hannah laughs. "No. Just a change in the timeline. For example, my simple brother, say a bee wanted to rest on a flower. That's the set path, that's what should've happened but then something changes, something little, like, maybe the bee is distracted by a shrieking mom or maybe someone moves the flower. The path is changed. A new path is made and the old path is gone."

Josh doesn't understand what Hannah's talking about and he sees her brow knit in frustration the longer she stares at him. He doesn't understand what he's supposed to take from that idea. 

"Never mind." Hannah huffs, looking away. "I keep forgetting you're dumb."

"Ouch, Han." Josh whines. "I bring you plants and you just run me over."

Hannah giggles, a smirk curved into the side of her mouth and Josh almost makes another jab at her but the screen door is smacking closed with a loud, tired sigh from Beth, who is sweaty and gross but she still clamors over to them, her arms outstretched as if wanting a hug.

Josh grimaces, so does Hannah and Beth whines pathetically when they both hurry to their feet, running away from her.

"You guys are jerks!" Beth hollers, collapsing beside Hannah's garden with a soft grunt. She lays unmoving for a moment and Josh almost thinks she's dead so he and Hannah poke at her with thin sticks until she whimpers and rolls onto her back, eyes glossy, smile dazed and she pats at the earth.

"Lay with me."

They do. Hannah on her left, Josh on her right, staring up at the cotton candy sky stretched out before them, shuddering glimmers of burgundy dipping beyond the sun, setting and solid like blades of grass. 

Beth touches Josh's wrists. "I made the team."

"Josh brought me a plant." 

"I kissed Chris."

Beth turns to him. "Okay, you can't just drop a bomb shell like that. This is supposed to be recapping current positive events not a sap extravaganza."

"Do you even know what extravaganza means?" Hannah laughs.

Beth roughly shoves her twin. "Do too."

"It's my only positive current event, Bethany." Josh tacks on.

"Mom said you're getting new meds."

"Yeah, let's not talk about that."

"Deflecting is bad, Joshua." Hannah chimes in.

"Shut up, Han."

The twins giggle, Josh soothed by the sound and he curls his hand in Beth's as they stare at the sky, his mind quiet, calm and he would define today as a good day, first of the year, whatever that meant. Their parents find them in the garden, sighing exasperatedly at their children's state before laying down with them, rolling over events of their days, structures of words and sentences Josh doesn't remember but they're good, his family, full of good.

Chris calls him when Josh is on the brink of sleep, limbs like lead and wheat, walkie talkie chirping softly before Chris' voice filters through.

"You up, chief? Over."

Josh pats at under his pillow, blinking heavily as he scrambles to grasp at the walkie talkie, it's square shape fitting awkwardly in his uncoordinated hands. Josh brings it up, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah, dude." Josh mumbles. "...over."

"You sound like you were sleeping."

"Too cool for sleep, Cochise." Josh yawns, rolling onto his back. 

Chris snickers through the receiver and Josh almost wants to ask why his best friend decided to call so late but finds that he doesn't mind or maybe he doesn't care. 

"How was computer club?" Josh asks.

Chris' response is immediate. "Fine."

"You suck faces with Ashley?" 

"Dude, no. She's my friend."

"I was your friend and you definitely tried to suck my face, not that I would mind."

Chris pauses. "Is... Is that something you want to do?"

Josh's face goes hot. "Jesus, Chris, I was joking."

If Josh was being real with himself, he'd call out his own bullshit but he doesn't, instead sits up in bed, blinking rapidly in the darkness as his heart skips a beat when Chris hasn't responded, a stuttering 'shit shit shit' resonating in Josh's head and sure, sucking face- god, that's not what it's called, regardless he'd want to do that, with Chris.

"You totally weren't." Chris snorts. "You lying, son of a bitch."

"Language, Chris, I am a child." Josh responds. "I'm telling my mom. She'll disown you."

Chris gasps audibly. "No. Stop. I love your mom."

Josh considers telling Chris that he saw his mom on the street today, with a group strange people who worship memories. Of what, Josh still had no clue but his day has been as strange as its been good so he figures it's a toss up he's willing to deal with.

Chris is in the middle of talking when Josh hears it, the tape rewinding, his TV running lines of gray, humming much like the plant he brought home for Hannah. His blood runs cold, fingers stiffening around his blanket and Josh stares at his TV as the noise grows louder and louder before it blacks out again.

Josh inhales sharply.

"Bro?"

His skin prickles with goosebumps, chill lining his body like whispers. There's a distant sound coming from his TV, almost like a scream.

"Josh?"

He doesn't want to be here.

"Can I come over?"

Chris stammers. "Uh, sure. Wait. What about the curf-"

"Don't care." Josh says hurriedly, switching his lamp on as he kicks at his blanket. He tries to relax his jaw but his teeth keep grinding together, chest painfully tight and he yanks on his dad's old alumni sweatshirt. 

Josh is halfway through tugging on a pair of sweats when his TV turns on, green eyes staring back, unblinking and Josh can't breathe, lips quivering as they continue to stare and stare, blood beginning to trickle down from the left eye. It goes blank, milky white, dark bags ripping up in jagged tears of blood and teeth.

"...Josh?"

The TV clicks off, a low screech coming from the VHS player before it quiets and shuts off. Josh barely remembers to pocket his walkie before running out of his room, hurrying down the stairs with barely concealed terror, heart beating loudly in his chest.

His house makes no sounds, no suggestions that he's been discovered as he makes a break for his front door, throwing it open and Josh practically leaps for his bike, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He braces himself on the handlebars, staring at the dimly lit driveway, the dark road that stretches before him.

"Josh? Dude, you're scaring me. Are you okay? Oh my god, oh my god. Please. Answer me."

Josh shakily takes out his walkie, folding over it with a crumpled noise. "...Chris."

"Shit. Dude. Are you okay?"

No. No. He's scared. 

"I can come to-"

"No." Josh bites out. "I'll come. I'm coming."

Josh looks back to the black road, the ship in the distance, humming loud over the pounding in Josh's chest. It gives off a shimmering bout of light before settling and Josh's right foot settles on his peddle. 

Go. Go. Just fucking move. Josh grinds his teeth, twists rubber against his palm and takes off, pedaling hard, legs straining under his panicked movements, eyes searching shadows and buildings for something, anything. 

His body feels cold, trembling under thick folds of fabric, deep to the bone and it makes his head rattle, makes the ache in his chest throb and keen. Josh can hear the tape playing in his head, it's constant whirr, the flashing images and it should be a relief when he sees something different, but it isn't, it's unnerving, like he's staring into a mirror, like he's watching himself despite how little he can see.

Chris is waiting outside his house, haphazardly dressed in a big shirt and spider man boxers but Josh doesn't make jokes or clown or do much of anything aside from throw his bike down and collide into Chris' waiting arms. 

"Dude, you're freezing." Chris comments, worried, nervous and Josh doesn't mean to make Chris feel any of these things. 

Josh breathes, gross and wet and he releases a fat sob into Chris' shoulder and he wants to say sorry, say anything but he can only whimper, confused by the fear lacing his veins, that dying screech echoing in his mind.

Chris holds him close, arms wrapped tight around Josh's shoulders, voice garbled and incoherent, mouth close to Josh's ear, soundless noise. He manages to get Josh inside, up the stairs and into his room, setting Josh down on the bed as Chris wedges a chair under the doorknob.

Josh stares at his knees, fingers curled up into too tight fists and he shakily swallows around the lump building up in his throat. There are hands on him, too hot, uncomfortable and Josh tries to shrug them off but he starts crying again, burying his face into trembling hands.

"Preach, what happened?" Chris asks softly. "Did... Did you see one of them?"

If Josh had that would've made sense, if he had seen anything this would make sense but he didn't. Josh can't admit aloud that he's terrified of the tape left in his VHS player because of how damn stupid it sounds, he can't possibly say that he's scared of the fragmented images that pop up, ever changing and they're so, so familiar.

"Josh?" Chris gently pulls Josh's hands away from his face, wiping away tears and kneeling between Josh's legs, his elbows digging into Josh's knees, their foreheads pressed together. "Hey. Hey. Talk to me."

He can't. He can't. He can't.

"Josh."

Josh squeezes his eyes shut, a numbing throb settled against his temple. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me."

Sorry. "Okay."

A moment passes. "Are..." Chris huffs. "Want to watch this movie with me?"

"Okay."

It hurts to sit up straight, to uncurl his fists, Josh listening to Chris' breathing so he can match but it hurts, hurts, hurts. Chris gives him a Shazam shirt, lets Josh press his face into Chris' shoulder when they manage to settle in bed, a thick quilt pulled over them. Chris doesn't ask any questions, just presses play on his ps2 controller.

It's Freddy vs Jason, which is easily the trashiest movie Josh has ever seen but it's familiar, cinematic violence that comforts him. 

"I met this old guy who sells DVDs." Chris mentions absently. "He let me buy movies without an ID, pretty cool."

"You're a fucking nerd." Josh responds, his voice hoarse and disgusting and he recoils at the sound.

"You sound like that old guy from tv."

"Fuck you." 

Chris hums. "Yeah, yeah."

"I saw your mom today."

Chris stiffens, "Yeah?"

"She walked me home because her son was busy doing nerd things."

"And sucking face, you forgot that." Chris responds smoothly and Josh almost laughs because it's such a easy transition and it's coming from Chris. Josh props himself up on his elbow, Chris' arm burning against his, their knees bumping and Josh looks down at Chris, Chris looking back, the dip in his throat bobbing, glasses shining.

"Do you even know how to suck face?"

Chris shakes his head. "Do you?"

Josh shrugs. He had seen things but that didn't do much for his experience.

"Who else have you been kissing?" Chris asks, scandalized.

"I kissed Matt."

"That doesn't count. It's Matt."

"Agreed."

Chris bites his lip, thumb digging into Josh's forearm. "What happened?"

"It was a peck, Cochise."

"Not that."

"Oh," Josh swallows. "I.. I-I don't know."

"Okay." Chris sighs. "Well, if you... want to handle it with someone. I'm your guy."

"You're a real buzzkill, bro."

Chris leans up to kiss him, a quick peck that leaves Josh startled and Chris bright red, stammering through an excuse. Josh bends down, pressing his mouth to Chris', a hand on the other's shoulder. Somehow they come up with the unanimous decision to try making out.

It's a bit too wet on Chris' part, too much tongue on Josh's part but there's a happy medium somewhere and Josh feels like a puddle of oil. They part for a moment, Josh commenting on Chris' braces and Chris reddens, doesn't respond and brings his mouth back to Josh's, easy, simple, one, two swipes of tongue and Josh wants to melt into it. He wishes he had a word for the feelings that come when he's kissing Chris, it's mostly unintelligible, some kind of gross thing.

"You're better." Chris mumbles, a dumb dreamy look in his face when they stop kissing long enough to have a decent conversation.

"At everything?" Josh smirks. "I know."

Chris punches him. "You're a dick."

"Yeah." Josh sighs, feels hands pressing into his shoulder so he shifts over onto his side, eyes shutting, Chris' chest smoothing along his spine.

"This is gay." Josh mutters and Chris laughs, breath warm against Josh's neck and there's a sigh in there somewhere, some muted silence and Josh wonders what it is, what Chris is thinking but he doesn't ask, presses back into Chris and tries not to think of how his skin feels like it's shedding. 

Chris touches Josh's hip lightly, pauses briefly, listening, waiting, and Josh shifts closer. Chris wraps his arm around Josh's torso, nose wedged into the lining of the other's spine and he breathes.

Josh does too, mimics the quiet rise and whistle Chris makes. Freddy vs Jason plays in the background and Josh is afraid that at any moment the screen will blacken and fade and he'll stare into the same set of dead, green eyes. Chris makes a noise, squeezes Josh's torso and sighs drowsily.

Josh tries to sleep.


	7. Vomit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burying old dead and planting new ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew I'm sorry this took so long!! I've been pursuing my life career in bed testing which isn't at all a life career and just a pitiful excuse for sleeping all the damn time. Anyway. I love you all. 
> 
> Warnings: weird conversations, making out to a gross degree praise be to Jesus

Chris is asleep on Josh's shoulder, chin tucked between folds of his unraveling scarf, navy and Beth's and she didn't ask where they were heading so early in the morning, just wrapped one of her scarves around Chris' neck and watched them off with a sleepy wave. Josh had offered to drive them but Chris wanted to take the train.

Josh knuckles sleep from his eyes, shifting a bit closer and a sigh escapes Chris' lips when he wedges himself further in Josh's space, their knees pressed close together, pinkies folded over one another. Josh takes in the quiet train car they're riding in, strange signs for psychic readings and memory channeling strung up along the ceiling, illuminated and bright.

There's a woman standing at the end, earbuds wedged in her ears, eyes downcast and she's smiling softly. Josh wonders what she's listening to, turns to catch the eye of the old lady sitting across from them before she looks back down at the strings she's weaving together.

Chris stirs but doesn't wake, hair falling into his face, clean and soft, fine strands of blonde growing brighter the closer they get to his crown. He hadn't said anything since he showed up at Josh's window last night, hanging off the ledge with cloudy eyes and a muted horror that came with traveling so late at night.

There had been reports, more nonsense from doctors who knew nothing and government officials who only talked guns and explosions and no one ever talked about how that invisible barrier between the alien ship and the rest of them kept getting smaller and smaller, more people missing, more people having "epiphanies" that look too much like lives they should've lived.

It was weird, normal, their new normal but Josh didn't care about the aliens or Holidays steady crumble of decay, he had bigger problems, bigger worries that all seem to curve into tiny colored pills in his hand, ones that made spit taste like vomit and kept him asleep until the evening.

This was his definition of progress, getting better, three therapists later and they finally seem to get someone who either listens or knows how to translate Josh's silent into actual words. It was impressive, for the most part, but it also meant his parents getting mad at him for not speaking up, for not reaching out, conversations he's never felt like having became dinner topics until Josh tunes it all out, ice under the bridge, melted into lukewarm nothing.

"Next stop is Kingston Station." A mechanical voice announces and Josh nudges Chris gently with his elbow until the other boy stirs and moves, straightening up into a confused expression as he blinks tiredly. 

"We're almost there." Josh tells him, voice a bit raspy and awkward and Chris turns to him, pushing his glasses straight and nods. He looks away, stares at the top of his knees and laces his fingers with Josh's. Chris doesn't say anything in response, just gives Josh a light squeeze.

The train station is empty when they roll, platforms sparkly marble and faded pillars, the air is cold and bitter. It's colder in October than any other time of the year, snow melting in between intervals of rain and sun, startling white, fluffy as if what clouds their world had left didn't care that the sky was pink or that when it rained, it brought darkness in shades of burgundy and blood colored lightning. 

"This way." Josh turns at the sound of Chris' voice, their boots noisily scraping along the ground as they head towards the stairs. 

Chris bites his bottom lip, grasping ahold of the railing and he pauses at the bottom step, staring down for a moment. Josh waits, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, shivering involuntarily when a trapped block of air sweeps over them. 

"Chris?" 

Chris meets his eye. "Sorry."

"'s cool, bro." Josh answers easily, knocking his shoulder into Chris' with a grin, Chris making a pitiful noise when he's jostled with the movement. Chris slaps Josh's elbow and they both laugh, ascending the steps in hurried movements, two at a time, shoulder to shoulder.

The area around the station is small, modest, nothing compared to Holidays and the sky is clear here, still bubble gum, pastel pink but there are no aliens stretching against the sun, just empty, stilling silence and Josh finds himself staring up at the skies scattered dark clouds, shredded up into crooked bits.

"Told you there weren't any aliens." Chris says, smug and grinning.

"Yeah, yeah." Josh replies, shivering again. "Fuck, bro, it's cold."

Chris' expression softens and he unbuttons his jacket, shrugging it off easily and now he looks nervous, cheeks a bit red when his eye catches Josh's. There's a parka underneath his jacket, the collar of a  
button up peeking out from inside of it and Josh almost asks why Chris is wearing so many different clothes. Chris pushes his glasses up, handing the jacket over, hand shaking a bit. 

Josh takes it, biting back a smile when Chris clears his throat, face going redder by the second, blue eyes startling crisp against the pink sky as he watches Josh slide his arms into Chris' jacket. The sleeves are a bit big, but the collar smells like old cigarettes and grass, warm and cozy and Chris quickly looks away when Josh meets his gaze, suddenly overwhelmed. Josh reaches for his hand, shuffles closer, and Chris hooks his fingers around Josh's, neither looking at the other. 

"It's been in the closet for a while." Chris informs him, looking embarrassed. "But it's warm."

"'s fine, Cochise." Josh responds, tucking his chin into fur and cotton, sighing through a tremble of leftover cold. He trails after Chris when the other starts walking again, taking in tiny houses decked up in Halloween decorations and Christmas lights. 

Josh wants to ask where they're heading but he finds himself wanting to stop and stare at empty fields of brown, sparkles of distant mountains strewn up along the sky and Chris picks a few rocks, round and oval and he hands Josh some.

"For the passage." Chris tells him and Josh blinks, confused, but Chris offers no explanation, simply smiles and continues down the crumbling sidewalk. Weeds sprout through cracks, ants lining concrete and earth with tiny, invisible paths and Josh follows behind Chris, taking in the quiet scenery they pass.

They come across a bridge that folds off the main road, staggering down into a sad excuse of a path that flows deeper into emptiness. Josh can distantly hear the train, looking over his shoulder to see shadows of houses and the station. He doesn't know how long they've been walking, cheeks tight with cold. 

"We're here." Chris informs him, slowing to a stop and Josh doesn't see shit except for a collection of old bones and a makeshift puddle. Josh isn't sure how it hasn't dried up or how it came to be considering how far they were from everything and how desolate this place was.

"My dad said this is where goldfish come to die." Chris says, kneeling down to place a rock at the edge of the puddle. It ripples in response. "Stupid right? Stupid thing to tell a kid."

Josh's stomach twists. "It's not that stupid. You've heard some of the shit my dad says."

"Your dad is still around." Chris doesn't look at him. "It can't be stupid. He's still there." 

Josh isn't sure what to say so he says nothing, biting his lip while Chris continues to set rocks along the puddle, each causing a strange ripple. Josh moves to stand beside him, mimicking his crouched stance and places a rock beside one of Chris'. 

"It's better than the toilet." Josh says, watching another ripple echo along the surface. "My dad would just flush every dead one. No ceremony or anything. Just another dead fish."

Chris doesn't say anything, hands coming up to rest on his knees and he looks into the distance, glasses perched on his nose. They fall into a familiar silence, rearranging and setting rocks until they run out. 

"You ever think about if aliens didn't show up?" Chris asks, staring down at his reflection.

"Yeah."

"They found something in the crater." Chris licks his lips. "Bodies, mass suicide type thing, and I keep thinking that maybe my dad never came home is because he's dead, he died for aliens or some bullshit. If I didn't meet you, would he still have left? I don't know. But I think about it a lot. Maybe he saw that I had someone to take care of, maybe he thought my mom wouldn't become someone different. It doesn't matter though."

Chris looks at Josh, eyes unnaturally blue despite how dark it is, how hazy Josh's mind feels. Chris reaches out, brushes a loose curl out of Josh's face. He wipes his thumb under Josh's eye, tongue darting out. It's a distracted habit, Josh knows, sees Chris numbly work out whatever chaos is crossing his mind while Josh's brain seizes quietly, heart hammering in his chest.

"I thought that tape would help me find my dad but sometimes I get this feeling that he was never supposed to be there." Chris settles back on his calves, rolling into a seated position and stares down at his hands. "I hear my mom talk about it sometimes with Ian. How my dad died a long time ago in some other lifetime. It's such bullshit. What did that even mean? Even if there were other lifetimes or lives or whatever, why doesn't this one matter? Why is everyone so quick to try and leave what they have here for something else? What's wrong with now?" 

Chris' voice cracks, eyes glistening and he looks, for a second, incredibly angry. "Why wasn't I good enough for my dad to stick around this time? My mom's the same fucking way. She's so quick to latch onto some cult bullshit because she can't handle the idea that her husband is a piece of shit who abandoned his family." 

Josh isn't sure what to say, thinks back to a conversation he had with Hannah about bees and flowers, how paths change and alter over tiny things but it didn't make sense. Josh turns back to the puddle and stares into his reflection. He didn't understand any of it.

"Sorry." Chris mutters.

"Don't be."

"I'm always complaining."

Josh chuckles. "Have you not met me? I complain all the fucking time, Cochise."

Chris nudges him. "Yeah. You do."

"I understand what you're saying though, bro. About that feeling." Josh looks out at their distant surroundings. "I still have the tape you gave me but I... I can't get it out. It changes a lot, tells me things and it sounds crazy, I know but..." Josh swallows thickly, remembering how he saw two pairs of green eyes staring back at him from inside his television and with each passing day, each glance at his reflection, Josh is starting to think he knows whose face he was staring into.

Chris meets his eye, swallows again and looks away, staring down at Josh's knees with a certain level of resignation. He hesitantly reaches out, places a pale hand over the knob, palm radiating warmth. Chris looks strange like this, suddenly small and weak, a lot like how he looked when he first told Josh about his dad leaving.

"I feel like I'm making this about me." Josh whispers, studying Chris' colored knuckles, how his skin is dried in white webs and Josh wants to touch him but it doesn't feel right. "Sorry."

"I never said that."

Josh shrugs, "You don't have to, Cochise."

"Even if you did, Josh, it wouldn't matter." Chris says. "I'm not the only person affected by what happened. Ms. Handsen died that day, a lot of people did during the blackout. They didn't even find..." Chris sucks in a breath, falling silent, his hand still on Josh's knee and Josh watches the way Chris' eyes glisten, bitter and angry, ashamed, like his tiny world didn't matter in the broad scheme of things but if it mattered to Chris, it mattered to Josh.

Chris rubs his eye. "Sorry."

"You don't ever have to say sorry to me, bro." 

Chris huffs, dragging his eyes up, a faint smile tucked into the corner of his mouth and he sighs, shoulders lifting then falling and Josh shifts closer when Chris' hand slides down to his calf and squeezes. They sit in silence but it feels different this time.

Chris is staring at him when Josh looks back, brow furrowed and worried and Josh wants to crack a joke but his lungs clam up and it's hard to breathe. It was a crazy notion, a crazy fucking idea and Josh sinks to the ground, legs kicking out and runs a hand through his hair. 

"I feel like I'm supposed to die." Josh whispers softly. 

"You're not supposed to die, Josh." Chris snaps, his tone harsh and startling and when Josh looks at him, he can make out fine lines of fury, panic and Josh swallows hard, staring into Chris' open expression. 

Chris' face crumples, tears pooling in his eyes and his head snaps away, shoulders trembling as a wet gasp escapes his lips. "You're not. You're not, okay?"

"Okay." Josh whispers, heart pounding in his chest. "Okay."

Chris furiously wipes at his face, sniffing loudly and he turns, grabbing Josh's hand tightly and leans forward, their noses brushing and Josh can practically feel the wetness on Chris' eyelashes. 

"I won't let you down this time." Chris tells him. "I promise."

Josh blinks back tears, sucking in a harsh breath and his shoulders tense and he doesn't know what Chris is talking about, what anyone is talking about but it doesn't stop the warmth that oozes along his bones and settles beneath his skin. 

They sit like that for a moment, Josh clutching Chris' knee, Chris holding Josh's hand and it's hard to think of who leaned in first, closed that tiny gap between them. 

Chris smooths a hand over Josh's spine, their noses brushing and Chris tilts his head just so, his mouth warm and dry against Josh's, hot air escaping as he sighs into their kiss. It feels so strange this time, considering how often they've kissed, how often Chris ends up on top of Josh.

A hand slides over his knee, easy warmth, rough and thick and he's felt that hand before, in other places, in other ways but Josh doesn't want to think about that, reaches out and grasps it in his own, curls his fingers around the dry, calloused palm and breathes. 

Chris pulls away first and neither of them say anything, just stare, silent drifting between and Chris gives him a small smile before kissing Josh once, then twice.

"'s cold as fuck, bro." Josh mutters against Chris' mouth and Chris laughs, making a noise of agreement. "You want to come over?" 

"That would be cool." Chris nods, cheeks tinting. "U-Uh, if you wanted. You know. Cool."

"Smooth, bro." Josh grins and Chris punches him weakly.

"Fuck you."

"Geeze, you must be feeling really lucky today, Cochise." Josh laughs at Chris' embarrassed expression and isn't even mad when Chris hurried to his feet and storms back the way they came. Josh wishes their relationship wasn't so easy, so natural because there are some days when Josh muses about Chris and Ashley and Chris kept saying they were just friends but there's something in the back of Josh's mind that says they could've been something.

The train station is a bit busier when they arrive, kids with suitcases sitting along benches of the platform, a crowd of dressed up moms and their babies situated in the far corner, undeterred and unbothered.

"Are.. Are we together?" Chris asks suddenly, burying his chin into his scarf. He doesn't look at Josh when he asks, just stares into the train tracks below, ears tipped red.

"Uh." Josh blanks. "I.. Do you want to be?"

Chris nods. "Kind of. Yeah. We've... Yeah. It would be cool. I like doing stuff with you."

"Yeah?" Josh smirks, trying to ignore how hot his face suddenly feels. "What kind of stuff do we do, Christopher?"

Chris buries his face into his scarf, quietly fuming with embarrassment as Josh waits for an answer. "Like... Making out and stuff, bro. Why are you making me say this?"

"I'm not, dude. This is all you." Josh grins.

Chris flushes. "You're a dick."

"Yeah." Josh agrees, reaching for Chris' hand when the train rolls up, doors swooshing open after it settles and they stand in the far corner instead of sitting, pressed a bit too close but no one says anything.

"So.." Chris clears his throat. "You want to go out with me?"

Josh nods,"Yeah."

"Oh. Okay." Chris answers, running his thumb over Josh's. "Nice."

Josh hums in agreement, watching how the scenery outside changes into familiar expanse of Holidays, the large black alien ship sitting in wait against the sky and Josh rests his head on Chris' shoulder.

Beth isn't home when they get there, neither is Hannah, a neat little note and a picture left on Josh's bedroom door with familiar scrawl and two smiley faces. Josh plucks them from the wood as he pushes the door open, scanning the notes with passing interest.

J,

Went to Sammy's  
Also mom left this on the counter 

There's a little arrow draw and Josh shifts the note behind the picture, a candid shot of a metal sign reading Blackwood and a winding path covered in snow and trees. Josh turns the picture over, his mother's handwriting splayed across the back.

"Mount Washington?" Chris' voice startles him. "Your parents bought a mountain?"

"Guess so." Josh answers noncommittally, stomach twisting up with a strange sense of dread. He sets the note and picture on his desk, moving deeper inside his room, Chris' jacket bunched around his elbows and he slumps down on his bed, Chris studying the picture.

Chris straightens, doesn't say anything and there's a flicker of worry that works across his face before it disappears. He moves over to close Josh's bedroom door, shoulders pinched tight. They slouch after a moment and Josh almost asks what's up but Chris is turning back to him, legs slowly crossing the distance between the door and Josh's bed.

Josh looks up at him, freeing his arms from the confines of his and Chris' jackets, pushing them to the floor. Their eyes meet. Josh shifts back, Chris stepping between his legs, fingers fumbling with the zipper of his jacket and Josh nearly goes cross eyed when he sees another jacket underneath, snorting out a laugh when Chris glares at him.

"I know its cold, bro. But shit."

Chris blinks, then frowns. "What?"

"How many shirts do you have on?"

"O-Oh, uhm, a few."

Josh lifts an eyebrow. "And jackets?"

"Just two." Chris answers quickly. "Er, three but you took... my.. other one."

The last part is said too low, Chris ducking his head as another wave of embarrassment passes over him and Josh bites back a laugh, worrying the inside of his cheek as Chris pointedly looks away.

Josh nudges him with his knee, reaching up to unbutton Chris' first layer of shirts, smirking when he sees another flannel beneath it." Can I keep your jacket?"

"It smells like shit, bro." Chris deadpans, shrugging off his second jacket, then his shirt.

Josh shrugs, "Smells like your house." 

"Yeah." Chris doesn't even try to defend his household's lack of trying. He sighs, bending down to capture Josh's mouth in a kiss, one hand curled along Josh's thigh as the other snakes up Josh's shirt, cold and Josh shivers involuntarily, grasping the collar of Chris' shirt and pulling.

They stumble back on Josh's bed, collapsing somewhere in the middle, Chris' tongue sliding along Josh's, a bit sloppy but it's good, lips too dry and rough as they move together, Chris' hands grasping at Josh's skin, nails dragging along his stomach and Josh breathes out harshly, grasping at Chris' shoulder, his collar, yanking until something gives and Chris is rolling up to pull his shirt over his head, skin bare and pale, tinted with tiny splotches of pink. 

Josh runs his hands over Chris' stomach, soft and pudgy and Chris pushes Josh onto his back, mouth on his, warm, inviting. It feels like a dream, it might be judging how blurry Chris' face is, freckles melding into cheeks into a nose and lips and Josh's eyes are closed before he realizes, a soft chuckle drifting to his ears. 

There's a hand up his shirt, one following the hard curve in his spine and Chris holds his gaze, blue eyes soft, there's a darkness in that familiar face, wounded and old and it's taken too much talking, too much whatever for moments like this to happen, real moments.

"We don't have to." Josh whispers.

"Yeah." Chris responds easily, lips coaxing and warm but it doesn't compare to how hot the inside is, wet with teeth and grooves and Josh can only groan when Chris shifts slightly, hovering over him, knees in between Josh's legs. It's unnerving, this stare, the way Chris always seems to look at Josh like knows something.

"Oh."

It's not a quiet look. It's all heat and fire and intensity, like how the sun was before it began a soft ball of yellow goop that hung in the pink sky. Josh shrinks away, heart too loud in his ears, his chest and the claws in his ribs work up to his windpipe, scratching along his throat, up, up, up.

"Josh."

It feels like the ground is trembling beneath them, heart in his throat, teeth holding back a wall of panicked screams and it's not until Chris is moving him that Josh realizes that the ground is, in fact, shaking. Hard.

Josh barely registers he's being moved, weakly pulling himself together as he's dragged down to the floor, Chris hovering over him, their hands tangled together as rubble begins to trickle from the ceiling. Josh can't hear himself breathe, his lungs tight and he can barely make out Chris' voice despite how close his mouth is.

Chris is folded over him, glasses scattered somewhere along the floor and maybe Josh should be more concerned with the way their world is crumbling all around them but he can't, mouth feeling numb, filled with beads and lead and he grabs Chris' arm tightly, pulls him close.

Josh swallows thickly. It takes him a minute to realize that the floor is no longer trembling, wondering if the world will fall black again like it did back then but it doesn't, only heavy breathing from Chris, from himself, distant cries for help, screaming.

Chris stares down at him, wide eyed, blood trickling down his nose, covered in loose, crumbling debris, eyes so damn blue that Josh wants to drown in them and maybe that's what this feeling is, could be if this situation wasn't so familiar.

"Josh-"

Josh seizes up, elbows digging into carpet, his grip on Chris' arm so tight he can feel nails digging through the skin, chest tight and something keeps clawing and clawing at his chest and Josh kisses Chris, tastes blood on his mouth, his tongue. 

It's not as brief as Josh thinks it could be, should be, because Chris collapses against him, hands on his face, his throat, tongue hot in Josh's mouth, thick, heavy and Josh can't find it in himself to let go of Chris' collar, revels in how solid the other's body feels on top of his.

"I love you." Chris whispers. "I love you. I love you."

"You don't." Josh responds softly. 

"I love you so much." Chris hums, nose brushing along Josh's, fingers on his chin, cold and shaky. 

"You don't." Josh says again and Chris kisses him, harder this time, noisy and empty and Josh's chest squeezes painfully, aches and yearns and it's a numbing realization.

Josh doesn't know how long they stay curled up on the floor, Chris wrapped around him, hands tangled between them and Josh knows that he should care more about the earthquake that just happened but he's tired.

"Josh." Sam's voice rings through the air, shaky and Josh closes his eyes, Chris pressing impossibly closer. "T-They.. Josh.. P-Please answer."

Josh pushes his forehead into Chris', releasing a trembling breath when Chris detangles them, fumbling for his shirt while Josh moves to find his walkie. 

It's tucked under his pillow, blinking rapid green and Josh brings it to his lips. "Sam. You okay?"

"They took Beth, Josh. T-They took her!" Sam's voice breaks and cracks, turns into numb static that spreads along Josh's brains. His heart stops, stomach bottoming out and it's hard to swallow. 

"Wha..t.." Josh whispers, distantly staring out his window, where the alien ship sits, gleaming faint metallic before it falls back into familiar flat black. It's then that Josh notices smoke in the distance, houses crumbling into ruin and ground dust and Josh can distantly hear Sam's voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next episode:  
> You can't open up holes in different parts of time and expect nothing to change


End file.
